Another Very Merry Muppet Family Christmas Story
by Bob Wright
Summary: A family in need of holiday hope finds themselves at Emily Bear's farmhouse with some familiar faces. Little do they know they also carry the stolen Baseball Diamond, which leads to a showdown with familiar foes. NOW COMPLETED
1. Stealing the Baseball Diamond

YET ANOTHER VERY MERRY MUPPET FAMILY CHRISTMAS STORY

BY

BOB WRIGHT

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is by and large an independent story with no direct connection to my previous Muppet story, although a few items are continued from there.

This story is dedicated to the memory of Jerry Juhl, and others with the Muppets who have left us too soon.

The classic Muppets are registered trademarks of the Walt Disney Company. Sesame Street characters are trademarks of Sesame Workshop. Fraggle Rock characters and all other are registered trademarks of the Jim Henson Company. And now, as always, sit back and enjoy the story.

* * *

"Last call, everybody out for the night," the guard called to the few patrons still flowing out of the museum, "We'll open again after the holidays." He waved goodbye to several visitors before walking over to the wall and activating the building's security features for the evening.

"Are you sure this system's going to work, Ken?" asked the curator gruffly, having come up behind him.

"It was the best I could get, Mr. Van Grouch," the guard said, "Especially when we end up with the fabulous Baseball Diamond for four weeks, we've got to take every precaution we can. Lady Holliday would never forgive us if anything happened to it."

He gestured toward the large display case in the center of the room containing the largest diamond in the world, temporarily on loan to them. "Yeah, well I would have preferred a gem a little more flawed for the collection," Van Grouch groused, "It would fit in with our overall theme of artistic trash. Oh well, nobody's perfect. At least it gives us more prestige, and you can never have enough of that."

He hefted his coat and top hat. "Anyway, I've got a dinner engagement at the Don't Drop Inn in an hour, so I'll see you after the holiday, Ken," he said, walking briskly toward the exit.

"Merry Christmas, Mr. Van Grouch," the guard called after him.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Van Grouch growled back. The guard shrugged and pulled the levers that activated the laser grid all around the room. He took one final check to make sure the Baseball Diamond was safe, then walked toward the service entrance. On his way out, he passed an exhibit of stuffed North American animals. Or at least they all looked stuffed….

No sooner had the guard vanished than the seemingly immobile bear at the edge of the displayed glanced around, and then raised a radio to his lips. "All clear," he said into it, "You can make your move."

Up on the roof, a short man in a shabby gray coat was holding the other radio. "Check, Chuck," he told the bear, "You and your buddies get those cameras and alarms down while we get inside." He turned around and called out, "Bo, it's show time."

The only response to this was a loud snoring sound coming from behind the air conditioner. The short man rolled his eyes in disgust. "BO!" he shouted, kicking his associate's legs.

"I DIDN'T DO IT YOUR HONOR!" the other man, a tall person in need of a shave, shrieked as he leaped to his feet. He glanced around in a panic. "Oh, sorry Larry," he told the short man, "Just having a bad…"

"Here, get the winch set up," Larry muttered, shoving several mechanical items into Bo's hands, "I'll get the skylight set up."

He strode over to the skylight and glanced down. The Baseball Diamond stood right in the middle of the room, surrounded by the alarm lasers. Larry knew that walking right into the museum and trying to snatch the diamond would have been folly; that had been the reason he'd told his employers that he wanted extra assistance from the infamous Riverbottom Gang for this job, as he was worked together with them a couple of times before on small jobs. If all went well—and given the combined IQ of his associates, he had his doubts—he was now in for the biggest payday of his long career in crime.

He pulled a wire out of his pocket and proceeded to cross-wire the skylight's alarm system. Next he produced a glasscutter and slowly cut a circle in the center of the skylight. Once he was finished, he reached through the hole to undo the lock—only to have the entire skylight shatter when his sleeve brushed a small portion of it. Larry shrugged at this misfortunate; at least the alarm was still off. "All right, give me the harness, Bo," he told his partner.

"Coming Larry," Bo stumbled over with the winch half-finished. Rolling his eyes, Larry hooked himself up to the winch's harness and stepped out to the edge. "All right, lower me down," he told Bo, "And make sure you…NOT THAT FAST!"

For Bo has set the winch on its fastest setting, which send Larry flying downward at close to forty miles an hour, a fall that was interrupted only when he hit the floor hard. "Oops," Bo groaned from the roof, "Sorry about that, Larry."

Muttering under his breath, Larry grabbed the cable, which Bo was now holding on to, and gave it a hard yank that sent Bo falling downward into the floor as well. Miraculously, neither of them activated the alarm lasers upon landing, but as they shook themselves off, they saw they were now hemmed in by them. "Hey guys!" Larry hissed toward the hall, "Mind getting in here and shutting them down!"

"Keep your shirt on, pal," the Riverbottom Gang's Snake slithered into the room underneath the lasers. Upon reaching the Baseball Diamond's display case, it pressed the Play button of the tape recorder it had in its coils and listened to the playback of the case's alarm combination being punched in. Nodding, it pressed in the combination on the keypad with its nose. "Case deactivated," it announced loudly as the clicking of the alarm going down could be heard.

"Why don't you say it a little louder?" Larry told him sarcastically, "We can pull down the window and you can shout it all the way to the precinct. I don't see these alarm beams down yet!" he shouted loudly himself into the hall.

"All right, all right, give us a second!" the Weasel peered around the corner, wire cutters in hand. He dropped out of sight again, and moments later the alarm beams disappeared. "Wait, wait, wait," Larry pulled an eager Bo back down to the floor, "We need the camera's down first."

And fortunately for their cause, the rest of the Riverbottom Gang now entered the room, the Lizard carrying the Pop-Eyed Catfish in a metal bucket, and set about cutting the cords to the security cameras around the gallery. "OK, now get up," Larry hauled Bo to his feet once they were clear, "Get me the decoy ready."

He opened the unlocked side of the case and stared in greedily at the Baseball Diamond. Now came the tough part. The case was rigged, even with the main alarms down, to go off if there was the slightest loss of pressure from the diamond. The glass fake diamond he'd procured would have to be put in place at exactly the right time. He felt Bo press it into his hand now. Taking a deep breath, he put his hands into the case on either side of the diamond. "Three," he counted down to himself, "Two, one…"

In a flash he pushed the Baseball Diamond off its pedestal and shoved the fake into place. To his delight the alarm did not sound. Chuckling in delight he held the diamond up. "The fabulous Baseball Diamond," he said proudly, "And it's all ours."

"Now don't forget we get an equal cut of the profits once we sell this off," the Lizard reminded him.

"We don't take well to being short-changed," Chuck added with a growl.

"Don't worry boys, I'd never dream of short-changing you," Larry reassured him, "Bo, get the wrapping ready for…Bo? Oh great!"

For Bo was now disappearing into one of the bathrooms, a wrench in hand. Larry ran after him to find his partner underneath the bathroom sink, tampering with the plumbing. "Bo, how many time have I gotta tell you, don't shut the water off!" he yelled at him.

"But Larry, we gotta leave our mark!" Bo protested, "After all, we're supposed to be the Dry Bandits. Let me get this…"

No sooner had his wrench touched the U-bend, however, than the alarm sounded all throughout the museum. "Honestly," Bo remarked out loud, sounding offended, "who, puts alarms on their plumbing?"

"Probably people who know somebody feels the need to shut it off!" Larry hauled his fellow Dry Bandit to his feet and slapped him for good measure. "Beat a path for the alley, boys!" he shouted at the Riverbottom Gang as he ran out of the bathroom, tossing the Baseball Diamond to Chuck, "Wrap that up like a present so nobody gets suspicious."

"Hey wait, I can't go anywhere!" protested the Pop-Eyed Catfish, who'd been left stranded in his bucket on top of a display case. Larry backpedaled and picked the fish up. "I don't know why we even bother bringing ya along like this when you don't….OOOFFF!" his rant was cut off as Bo, in his haste to escape, accidentally slammed open the service entrance door in his partner's face. Growling, Larry staggered toward his large open-backed truck parked in the alley behind the museum. He tossed the Pop-Eyed Catfish's bucket into the back, where the rest of the Riverbottom Gang was wrapping the Baseball Diamond in green present paper, and gunned the truck engine. They pulled out into traffic, sending three cars driving by onto the sidewalk. A light snow was now falling. "I hope this doesn't slow up our trip to the Bitterman Building," the Snake remarked, staring up out the truck open rear at the sky, "She did say she and the Doc like us to be punctual."

"Ah, as long as she pays up afterwards, who cares what time we're there?" Larry scoffed, turning on the windshield wipers, "And even if it does snow, we've got loads of time to get there. No need to rush when we've got the diamond and no one can trace it to us."

"Unless something else goes wrong," the Weasel pointed out, sticking a tag on the wrapped up diamond inscribed JUMBO GOLF BALL, DO NOT OPEN TILL NEXT XMAS.

"Relax, bud," Bo laughed, "What else could go wrong now?"


	2. A Family in Need

As Christmas Eve morning dawned the next day in the city of Fieldton about fifty miles from where the theft had occurred, Alan Reiser sat in the den of his worn-down apartment reading the classified section of the newspaper. He shook his head sadly. No openings were available. Ever since the electrical company had decided three months ago to completely outsource its operations to the Far East, he'd been left in the lurch with no employment. He was starting to feel desperate inside; after all there was no way he could continue to scrape by with two children to support while his wife was out on the West Coast.

It was at this moment that the phone on the table next to his decaying armchair rang. Alan grabbed for the receiver; he'd been expecting the call since last night. "Hello?" he said into the receiver.

"Good morning and merry Christmas, dearest," came his wife's voice on the other end. Although she'd only been out in California working hard to try and help keep them afloat after he'd been laid off, seemed like forever to Alan—and their children—that she'd been gone. Unfortunately, she'd only been able to find low-end positions so far—barely enough to pay her airfare back, she'd told him softly over the phone one night when the children were asleep—and that wasn't helping the fact they were well behind on the rent and probably facing an eviction notice within the next thirty days. "So, are you still on schedule to get back her by tonight, Alicia?" he asked her.

"I'm at the airport now, honey," she told him, "I don't know if the plane'll be able to make it through, though; they're saying a snowstorm's headed your way."

"They are?" Alan frowned, "The forecasters all said clear this morning when I got up. You'll still try anyway? We were all going to drive to the airport in Boulderville to see you off the plane."

"I'll try, but if that's storm's really there, there's no guarantee you'd be going there for nothing," she said with a melancholy edge, "From what I saw, it looked like a really big storm."

"Is that Mom on?" came the still sleepy voice of their son Zachary, having entered the den still in his pajamas.

"Yep. You want to talk to her?" his father asked. Zachary nodded slowly and took the receiver. Alan stepped back and listened to mother and son discuss the holidays and what they'd have as presents for each other. There was no mistaking, though, the deep sadness etched on Zachary's face as he talked with Alicia; he'd been very close to his mother and had taken the fact she was going out west hard. Alan understood the pain, having lived through his own parents' divorce when he was twelve. But that had been far from the only problems in Zachary's life lately; two of his own friends had also moved away, and this combined with the absence of his mother had sent the formerly boisterous ten year old into a shell, spending most of his time in his room and doing none of the activities he once had. Alan was desperate to get him back out into the world and start living again, but didn't have the heart to try anything forceful.

"Right, we'll see you there, Mom," Zachary finished the conversation and hung up. He stared ahead into space. "Something's going to go wrong and we're not going to get to spend Christmas together," he said softly.

"Hey, don't worry about that yet, pal," Alan walked over and rubbed his son's hair, "No need to get upset before things happen."

"I just have this terrible feeling deep down that bad things will happen either to us or her," Zachary wasn't placated, "Everything else's gone wrong for us, no reason this won't either."

"Well now you're starting to think like a Fraggle," Alan told him, "They always get pessimistic in the bad times."

"What Fraggles? I've never seen any Fraggles," Zachary commented, shaking his head, "Everyone says they're just a myth little kids believe in. Have you ever actually seen a Fraggle, Dad?"

"No myself, no, but—"

"Then how do you know they always look on the bad side of things?" Zachary posed. Alan couldn't come up with an answer for this. The clock struck ten o'clock at this moment. "Well, looks like the time's almost upon us to get moving if we want to get to the airport in time," the man said, "Why don't you get all the presents for your mother together, and I'll go get your sister awake so we can get out on the road."

"I guess," Zachary went about gathering up the presents that were stacked in the corner of the den. Alan walked up the hallway to a door that was still closed. He gently opened it. His daughter lay asleep in her bed, snoring softly. She looked almost completely at peace, as if she didn't have a care in the world. But Alan knew nothing could be further from the truth, even if he hadn't told it to her. Ever since the hospital reports had came back last month, and the doctor had said—he couldn't even bear to think of it now—acute leukemia, discovered about three weeks late…

"Time to wake up, Christine," he said, gently shaking her. Christine awoke with a start. "Is it Christmas Eve yet?" she asked him.

"At last check it was," Alan pointed to the overcast but bright skies outside, "You'd better get dressed, we're going to need to be at the airport in an hour if we want to see Mommy home." His heart shuddered inside as he said this; if Zachary was right and something did go wrong, Alicia might never get another chance, if the disease had spread far enough…

"Is Mommy still coming back on time?" she asked him, stretching.

"So far, yes," he said, "I bet she's going to like that present you got her."

"I hope so," his daughter said.

"Well, I'll let you get ready, your brother and I will load up the car," he started to leave.

"Daddy, are you sure I'm all right to see her again?" Christine's question cut through the air, "I'm not contagious to her, am I?"

Alan stared hard into her worried eyes. He forced a smile. "No, it's not that bad," he said quickly, "Everything's going to be all right."

He rubbed her hair as well and walked out of the room, breaking up on the inside. "Here, I'll take that one," he told Zachary, who was struggling to lift a heavy present—a microwave, as Alicia had told him she could use one when she went back to California after the holidays, "No need to hurt yourself." He picked it up and carried it out into the hall, too preoccupied to notice the yellow newsman coming onto the television screen in his landlord's room up the hall, the door to which was wide open had he cared to look. "Here's a fast-breaking news flash," the Newsman was announcing as he ran up to his desk, accidentally tripping on and breaking something with a loud shattering of glass in the process, "The National Weather Service has issued a winter weather warning for the Tri-County area for the rest of the day. The edge of the snowstorm is expected to reach the area within the next two hours…" at this point a torrent of snow abruptly fell down on him. "If not sooner," he added with a grimace, wiping it out of his hair, "Motorists are warned to stay off the roadways at all times within the next twenty-four hours if they can help it."

* * *

"How much longer is this going to last?" Christine asked in a worried voice about a half hour later as they drove very slowly eastbound on Route 21 toward Boulderville—straight into what looked like the heart of the snowstorm. For without an advance warning of the system, they had driven right into almost total whiteout conditions.

"Oh, I'm sure this won't go on too much longer, probably just a squall," her father said as optimistically as he could. He gripped the wheel tightly with both hands and braked hard every chance he could get, for he could barely see five feet in front of him with the wind blowing heavy gusts of snow along the road.

"If so, this is the heaviest squall I've ever seen," Zachary was gripping the door handle nearest to him tightly as well, "I don't like to complain, Dad, but maybe we'd better pull over until this blows over."

"Yeah, maybe you're right," Alan had to agree now, "I think we…"

It happened in a flash. One second there was the strident blare of a horn directly behind them. Alan failed to see the truck until it was almost right alongside him, barreling along at well over the speed limit. He had to swerve hard to avoid getting sideswiped, and found himself sliding out of control on black ice. "Hold on!" he yelled to his children in the back seat, bracing himself for a crash. While that thankfully didn't come, there was a lurch as they slid sideways into a ditch, just barely avoiding a rollover. For a few minutes the Reisers sat still, breathing heavily over what had just happened. "You guys all right back there?" Alan asked his children once he'd collected his bearings again.

"I think so," Christine was also taking deep breaths; fortunately, she and her brother looked unharmed. "Are we stuck, Dad?"

"One way to find out," Alan turned the key in the ignition again. Only now the engine wouldn't start. He pressed the key several times before it became perfectly clear the engine was now completely dead. "Perfect!" he groaned, slumping against the steering wheel, "It looks like we are stuck! We'll have to get a mechanic for this!"

"In this weather?" Zachary gestured at the windows, which were completely covered with snow already, "Who else is going to be out here in this?"

And then suddenly before anyone could answer, they all heard the sound of a large vehicle approaching. There was a squeal of brakes as it came to a stop alongside them. The next thing any of them knew, there was a knocking on the front window. "Hi ho," said a familiar voice, "You folks need some help?"

Alan rolled down the window to find himself staring through the falling snow at a green amphibious face. "Kermit?" he asked, surprised, "Kermit the frog from TV?"

"That's me," the frog said, "I'm glad someone still watches us. What seems to be the problem here?"

"Oh, engine died and we got run off the road," Alan told him, "You wouldn't by any chance be going near the airport in Boulderville?"

"The Boulderville airport's been shut down due to the storm, " the Great Gonzo stuck his head out of the window of the large bus with snow chains and snowplow that was parked nearby, "They just said so on the radio."

"Great, just great," Alan sighed in frustration, "Now what are we going to do? Our whole day was based around that airport being open!"

"Tell you what," Kermit proposed, "I know there's a garage and convenient shop about five miles up the road from here. How about we drop your car off there, and you can come wait with us until this storm blows over?"

"Where are you going?" Christine had rolled down her window as well despite the storm's ferocity.

"Fozzie's mother invited us all back to her place for Christmas, since we had so much fun the last time we were there," the frog told her, pointing to his bear colleague behind the bus's wheel, "In fact we've invited practically everyone I know to come this year. A couple more people sure aren't going to hurt."

Alan thought this over for a minute. "Are you sure your bus there can get there safely in this weather?" he had to ask.

"Well, good question," Kermit didn't look completely sure himself, "But we have come twenty miles so far. And if it's too bad, we can wait over at the garage until it clears."

"Hmm," Alan mused it over. "What do you guys say, should we take up the frog's offer?" he asked his children.

"It's a lot better than waiting here for this to stop," Zachary told him, "Besides, I've been wanting to collect these guys' autographs for a long time."

"Well then, let me be the first to help you there," Kermit produced a pencil and paper and signed out his name for Zachary, "Hop on board the bus, we'll get you hooked up. Hey you guys, give me a hand out here getting these people's car out of the ditch," he called into the bus.

There was a low murmur as several Muppets came off the bus dressed in heavy winter outfits. "Boy they're in deep," Floyd Pepper commented, staring at the Reisers' car in the ditch, "It's going to take us a while to get this unstuck."

"Not if us all eat snow," Animal began chowing down on the snowdrift around the car. His Electric Mayhem colleagues shrugged and started pushing on the rear bumper. "No complaints now, please guys," Kermit told several who were still grumbling, "We should be glad we're doing a good deed like this."

He started pushing along with the musicians. The Reisers climbed out of the car. "Take care of our presents in the back there, "Alan informed the frog, "They're meant for my wife."

"We'll take good care of them," Kermit gestured toward the back end of the bus, to which a large flatbed loaded with at least three dozen more presents was attached, "Take whatever seats available on board."

"Right," the family rushed toward the bus; anything to get out of the cold wind. "Fare is twenty-nine dollars a head," Fozzie greeted them once they were on board. Seeing the worried looks on their faces, he added, "Just joking. Ride's on us. Sit anywhere, like the frog said."

"You're still a terrible comedian off the stage too," Alan told the bear. He slid into a seat a few rows behind Fozzie, right next to Scooter, as it was. "Hi," the gofer greeted him, "You know, I think you're going to like Fozzie's mother. She always throws a great Christmas party."

"Well we can't stay long," Alan informed him, "We'll have to get to the Boulderville airport sometime today when it reopens. We promised my wife we'd be there. The kids have been waiting so long to see her."

"The old love at a distance, huh?" Scooter asked, "Well, I'm sure we can work out something. In the meantime, you're going to have lots of fun. We all are. I think this is going to be one of the best Christmases ever."


	3. Arrival at Grizzly Farm

"Here you go folks, the garage and rest stop," Fozzie announced loudly over the bus's intercom as he swung wide to the left toward the garage. The snowstorm had meant that it had taken him fifteen minutes to drive the five miles there.

"This is a garage?" Alan stared in surprise out the window. What stood before them was a low, run-down stone building with broken windows on the garage doors and a sagging roof. A busted sign labeled DUMPEE CONVIENT STORE AND GARAGE hung dangerously to one side over the squat convenient store stuck on to the building's right side.

"I know it's not pretty to look at, but a couple of friends of mine run it," Kermit leaned over the back of the seat directly in front of his special passenger, "It was the best they could get with lease offers so high these days. But they'll take good care of your car, you can trust me on that. Fozzie, pull up here."

"Aye aye Captain Kermit," Fozzie braked the bus to an abrupt stop alongside the convenient store, sending everyone on board, jerking forward in their seats. In the back row, Rizzo, who'd been giving Zachary his latest autograph, was pitched hard forward on the entire length of the bus, slamming hard into the rearview mirror. "Hey, I said warn us when you're going to do that!" he complained to Fozzie as he slid downward to the floor.

"Oh rats, I know I forgot something," Fozzie grumbled.

"I heard that!" Rizzo shouted at him.

Excuse us please," Alan lifted Rizzo up off the floor as he walked down the steps after Kermit. The frog led him toward the reception area of the garage building. On the dusty desk was a small metal bell next to the sign RING FOR PROMPT SERVICE. Kermit ring the bell, which despite its size tolled away like a large church bell. Immediately George popped up behind the counter. Thanks for deciding to be Dumpee," he announced, "How can we help you?"

"Well George, Mr. Reiser's car broke down a few miles back, we're wondering if you could take a look at it," Kermit told him.

"You got it, frog, we'll put it under our Insta-Check Ultraviolet Scanner," George gestured to a strange contraption in the back of the garage. "Bruno, bring her in," he called to the large lumbering trash man in the room behind him. Bruno nodded and silently lumbered out toward the Reiser's car at the back of the bus. "I'd like to thank you for doing this for us," Alan told Kermit as they walked back outside.

"Well Christmas is the time you help others the most," Kermit said, "And since they work quick here, I…watch out Scooter!"

For the Dry Bandits' truck had come into the parking lot from the other direction and had nearly run over Scooter, who'd been walking across the lot toward the convenient store. Larry rolled down the driver's side window. "Hey, you'd better watch where you're goin', bud!" he shouted at Scooter from the snowdrift he'd been forced to dive into.

"Hey, which kettle are you calling black, Pot?" Fozzie yelled out his own window at the crook.

Chuck's head snaked out Larry's open window. "Watch yourself, coz," he growled softly at Fozzie, "We pots can sizzle your kettle."

"Right," Fozzie gulped nervously at the sight of the other bear. Kermit gulped himself at the sight of the Riverbottom Gang climbing down out of the truck. "Not these guys again!" he lamented, sliding quickly behind Alan and grabbing hold of his scarf with both flippers, "Uh, don't let them see me; they've been on me since my uncle helped out some people they wanted to see in the gutter."

Larry climbed down from the truck as well. "Here," he said, tossing Bo the gas pump, "Do something useful for a change, gas up while I go the bathroom. And don't screw around with the hose."

"We'll go check out the shelves in the store," the Snake told him, "Chuck's hungry."

"No, I'm not hungry," Chuck corrected him, "I'm HUUUUNNNNNNGGGRRYYYYYYYY!"

"Sure thing, Chuck," the Snake gulped. The five animals—the Weasel carrying the Pop-Eyed Catfish in its bucket—dashed for the store. "What're you looking at?" Chuck growled threateningly at Alan as he past him. "Nice guy, very nice guy," he told Kermit as the frog helped Scooter to his feet.

"Yeah, you're telling me," Fozzie remarked out the window, "He's my cousin. He's the black bear of the family."

"He looks like a brown bear to me, Foz," Scooter told him.

"No, no, no," Fozzie shook his head, "I mean, we disowned him after he started doing terrible things."

"Really, I can't blame you," Scooter stared inside the convenient store, which the Riverbottom Gang was basically tearing apart, throwing items up in the air at will. The cashier could be clearly seen screaming that she was going to call the police if they didn't stop. It was at this moment when George stuck his head out the garage door. "Our inspection's done," he called out.

"Well that was quick service," Alan remarked to Kermit as they headed back for the garage.

"Like I said, they do good business even if business is slow," the frog said, "What's wrong with it, George?"

"In a nutshell, everything," George checked the checklist Bruno had handed to him, "The engine's shot to pieces, the suspension's busted, the brakes are long gone, it needs a rear end job, the oil's overdue for a change, the gas lines are shot, and the tires need replacing."

"How much is that going to cost?" Alan gulped, knowing they would have the funds for that extreme an overhaul."

"Five bucks," George said.

"Huh?"

"It's Bargain Week; we're offering a five dollars for five or more problems special," George explained, "Bruno and I'll have it all done on Boxing Day; we'll have to, because then the boxers are all coming to have their cars done. You'll still have to fill out the paperwork now."

"That's fine," Alan reached for the clipboard. He and Kermit were too preoccupied to notice the police cruiser pulling slowly into the parking lot. Larry, fresh out of the bathroom, did however. He turned pale as the officer driving it trudged through the heavy snow toward the bathroom he'd just come out of. "Good afternoon, officer," he told the man as politely as he could. One the cop was out of sight, he ran to the front door and waved frantically for the Riverbottom Gang to stop and leave. "Forget it, forget it, let's get out of here!" he hissed at Bo, who was still filling up the truck. Bo hastily screwed the tank cap back on and jumped into the driver's seat as the Riverbottomers scrambled over his partner. He gunned the truck's engine and lurched it hard forward, hitting the gas pumps' cement rise like a speed bump as he did. "That's great Bo," Larry derided him, "Why don't you go faster and put me through the windshield while you're at it?" Neither they nor the Riverbottom Gang noticed that the package containing the Baseball Diamond had flown out the open back of the truck from the bump and had fallen among the myriad of presents on the flatbed attached to Fozzie's bus. Within moments, the thieves had disappeared into the storm again without their cargo. No one on board the bus seemed to have noticed the incident as well. Back at the garage, Alan shook George's hand. "Well, I'd like to thank you for being so generous, and we'll try and be back early on Boxing Day to pick it up," he told the old man.

"Try and be early; I've got a nine thirty with Evander Holyfield," George told him in closing. He trudged back toward the garage, when Bruno was already preparing a load of diagnostic equipment. "It's all in good hands now," Kermit reassured his friend, "Let's go on to Fozzie's mother's place."

* * *

"It looks like the snow's starting to slow up a bit," Zachary glanced out the window. He and his sister were now sitting alongside their father as the bus plowed it way through heavy drifts along a quiet country road.

"That's what the latest weather reports said," Zoot said from the other side of the aisle, "It's going to come in three distinct waves. This was the first one."

"Well, at least we won't have to worry about traveling after this," Kermit remarked, "And really, snow on Christmas makes the holiday a little more beautiful, a little more like it really should be."

He glanced out at the winter wonderland before them. "There's magic in the air this evening, magic in the air," he started singing along with the song now playing on the bus's radio, "The world is at her best, you know, when people love and care. The promise of excitement is one the night will keep. After all, there's only one more sleep till Christmas."

"Look out there, Daddy," Christine pointed. All sorts of forest animals had come out of the woods and were running alongside the bus, including several penguins and polar bears. "Yep, we're definitely getting closer now," Kermit said, waving hello to several squirrels in the trees. He turned to his nephew next to him. "You take the next verse, Robin."

"The world has got a smile today, the world has got a glow," Robin sang with the song, "There's no such thing as strangers when a stranger says 'Hello.' And everyone is family, we're having so much fun, after all, there's only one more sleep till Christmas."

"Tis the season to be jolly and joyous," every Muppet on the bus sang the bridge, "With a burst of pleasure we feel it all right. It's a season when the Saints can employ us to spread the news about peace, and to keep love alive."

"Your turn," Kermit told Alan. The man shook his head. "I, uh, really don't sing Christmas carols much anymore, Kermit," he told the frog. Kermit shrugged. "There's something in the wind today that's good for everyone," he went on with the song, "Yes, faith is in our hearts today, we're shining like the sun. And everyone can feel it, the feeling's running deep. After all, there's only one more sleep till Christmas."

"After all, there's only one more sleep till Christmas Day," every other Muppet finished the song.

"There it is, Mom's old house," Fozzie pointed through the snowflakes toward the distance, "And I see the minor modifications are coming along well."

"Minor modifications?" Alan gaped at the old farmhouse just now visible…and the ten-story hotel façade that was being constructed behind it. A large blue form wearing a bright red suit was standing in the road in front of them. It knocked on the front window as Fozzie pulled up. "You've got your parking pass?" he asked Fozzie once the bear had rolled down the window.

"Right here, Thog," Fozzie handed the form to the large blue creature. Thog gave it a looking over. "Spot 8-J on your right, in front of the barn," he gestured the bus forward.

"You've got him out there in this weather?" Zachary had to ask Kermit.

"Well, with all the people we've got coming, I figured we might have to coordinate parking," Kermit explained, "And who better to bear a storm than Thog, we figured. OK everyone," he announced once the bus had slid to a stop in its parking space, "Make sure you've got your room reservation passes and luggage with you, because I don't think with this weather we're going to get back out here again."

The various Muppets on board rose up and pulled their gear out of the bus's overhead racks. Alan pulled Gonzo aside as the whatever walked toward the door. "Seriously, do you know how much they're calling for?" he asked him, gesturing at the sky.

"I've heard about two feet, Mr. Reiser," Gonzo told him, "If you're hoping to get to the airport, I think…."

A large wooden plank abruptly fell out of nowhere onto his skull. "I think I'm in an extraordinarily large amount of pain," Gonzo revised his sentence as he keeled forward. "Sorry," came Biff's voice from the scaffolding surrounding the hotel façade rising above them. "Sully, I thought I said to be careful with those planks!" he yelled at his associate. Sully shrugged and went back about his work. Back below, Alan helped Gonzo to his feet, handing him a large chuck of ice from nearby to put on his head, then walked back to the flatbed where his children were helping Rowlf unload the presents. "I don't know how we're going to keep track of which ones are ours, Daddy," Christine told him, staring in confusion at the sheer number of presents before them.

"Well, Dr Honeydew's Present X-Ray machine should help if we need to know," Rowlf told her, handing her father several presents, including the one the Baseball Diamond was in, "If he ever got it to work, that is."

"Look, here comes another bus," Zachary pointed. Thog was gesturing another, more formal-looking bus, toward where they were parking. The letters on the side read SESAME STREET TOURS. "Hey, look who's here!" Alan pointed Christine's gaze toward the door after it had opened and the first person onboard had starting stepping off, "It's Nurse Robinson!"

"Hello there Christine," Susan strode over with a big smile and hugged her young patient, "How've we been since the last time you came to the hospital?"

"I've been great, Nurse Robinson," Christine told her happily, "I've been taking the medication you said I should. Did Kermit invite you here?"

"Yep, he invited us all," Gordon hunched low behind his wife, "Stay close, Miles, you could get separated easily in a storm like this."

His son nodded, clutching his hand. Various other human residents of Sesame Street piled off the bus, suitcases in hand. Last off was a familiar old man in a gray hat. He walked over to the luggage bins and opened one up. "After you, please," he gestured at Linda, who removed a carrying case with Barkley inside. "Did you enjoy your ride, Sprocket?" he told his own dog, unlocking his carrier and letting him out into the snow, "I wish you could have sat with me too, but this bus has certain rules."

Sprocket whimpered in discomfort and stretched. "Yes, I would have preferred we'd driven here too, but there's no way we could have made it through this mess in my car," Doc tried to reason with his pet, "Besides, if these people offered you a free ride, would you turn it down?"

"Mr. Crystal, nice to see you again," Alan shook Doc's hand, "You know, you still owe me that refund for that malfunctioning sheep counter."

"I know, I know," Doc groaned in disgust, "Business has been slow for me too, Mr. Reiser. These times are hard an anyone, especially inventors like me."

"Well, in the meantime, help us carry some of these presents," Alan handed several to the inventor. He walked up toward the farmhouse door, only to slip hard as he approached it and fall flat on his back, dropping presents everywhere. "Careful on the icy patch!" shouted a feminine voice behind the door. It opened, revealing a familiar pig standing in the frame. "Oh Kermit my love, I was so worried you wouldn't make it!" she gushed, rushing to the frog and trying to embrace him.

"Yeah, uh, we made it, Piggy, now, uh, can we wait until everyone's inside before…" Kermit slipped on the ice himself in his attempts to get away from Miss Piggy. "Careful on the icy patch!" another female voice warned. A bear with white hair stepped forward. "Ma!" Fozzie rushed forward over the still fallen Alan toward his mother—and also slipped. "Careful on the icy patch!" Statler and Waldorf shouted from the living room sofa. "This is going to be fun, watching this gag play out again," the former told the latter.

"And now there'll be more people to see do it," Waldorf added, watching every single human and Muppet that walked into the house slip and fall on the ice one at a time. "Emily, say hello to the Reiser family," Kermit introduced them to the older bear, "They'll be staying here with us until this storm blows over. We do have available rooms, don't we?"

"Probably," Emily started glancing through the list in her hands, "but it would have to be one of the upper floors, and I don't know…"

The doorbell rang behind them, followed by the sound of a very heavy person slipping on the ice. "Careful on the icy patch!" everyone nearby shouted out at them. Gonzo opened the door. "You OK, Earl?" he asked the heavily bundled up megalosaurus lying in a heap on the doorstep.

"As OK as a guy not used to this weather can be," Earl Sinclair slowly rose up, rubbing his head, "Why couldn't we have done this in Palm Springs?"

"I personally would have liked to, Mr. Sinclair, but they insisted," Emily took the dinosaur's luggage and ushered the rest of the Sinclair family inside. The rest of them were bundled up like there was no tomorrow as well. A somewhat worried Roy Hess brought up the rear. "I'm telling you, pally boy, there's something that doesn't seem right here, renting from mammals in cold weather," he told Earl, "You know I'm allergic to cold weather."

He sneezed loudly. Earl paid no attention to his friend and dropped the rest of his luggage in the middle of the den with a loud thump. "Well, advanced humans," he noticed the Reisers, "There seems to be more of them out there these days than you can imagine."

"I'm sure the feeling is mutual," Alan told him. He noticed the Baby in Earl's arms. "Hello there," he said, making a false cute face, "My name's…"

"Not the momma!" the Baby conked him over the head with its own heavy suitcase. Alan groaned and staggered backwards. "Now Baby, we agreed no hitting other guests," Fran scolded it. She hailed down Sam the Eagle as he walked by. "Would you mind keeping an eye on him for a while?" she asked the bird, "I'm part of the cooking staff for today."

"Me? Handling an infant?" Sam grimaced at the baby in distaste. "Hello, fat boy!" it greeted him. Sam stifled a heavy groan. "You there," he remarked, noticing the Electric Mayhem wheeling in their equipment, "Where do you weirdoes think your taking that paraphernalia."

"We gotta get set up, man," Dr. Teeth told the Eagle, "We're gonna be playin' all night long, right Clifford?"

"Absolutely," the Rastafarian was placing several loudspeakers into place in the vestibule.

"Will your songs be of high cultural quality?" Sam had to know.

"Who cares?" the Baby shouted at him, "Gimme bottle!"

"Oh dear Lord," Sam slowly shuffled off toward the kitchen. As he pushed open the door, Kermit exited carrying an icepack. "Here you are," he said, handing it to Alan, "Sorry about that; he hits me every time I see him too."

"I could guess," Alan pressed it against his skull, "So you do have some place for us to stay here? I can see it is getting a bit crowded in here."

"Let's take a look here," Kermit hefted Emily's assignment book, "Ah yeah, it looks like the top floor in fact, so I hope you're not afraid of elevators. Why don't we take your stuff up now; anything to get away from Piggy; she's in a too romantic mood," he glanced hesitantly over his shoulder as he carried some of the Reiser's luggage toward a new opening in the living room's back wall, half expecting Piggy to be coming after him, and little suspecting that soon a bigger problem would befall them all.


	4. Guests Galore

The door to the elevator slid open, revealing Sweetums at the controls. "All aboard," the large monster said as everyone stepped on board, "You want me to check your luggage?"

"If you feel like it," Alan told him. Sweetums produced a large marker and drew checkmarks on all the suitcases. "The author loves this gag just a little too much," Kermit groaned.

"Going up," Sweetums pressed the button for the top floor. The elevator rose up rather quickly to the top of the makeshift hotel tower. "Looks like we're down the hall, fourth door on the right," Kermit checked the room passes one more time, "Right in…here."

The Reisers' room in question wasn't much to laud about, with only a few chairs here and there and a Murphy bed on the wall, although Alan did have a feeling that with the haste the whole structure had been built, they would have been silly to expect more. "I know it's not much," the frog seemed to have read his thoughts perfectly, "But I think'll do fine. Just be careful when you use the bed; we got it on discount from the Happiness Hotel, and they haven't quite worked all the bugs out yet."

"Well again, Kermit, I'd like to thank you for everything," Alan told him, "If there's anything I can do for you in return, please, tell me."

"As a matter of fact, Mr. Reiser, we could use a little help down in the kitchen cooking all the dinners and snacks for later tonight," Kermit told him, waving hello to Sully as the construction worker scooted by on the ledge outside, wiping the window, "I got everyone I could to sign up for it, but we're still a bit understaffed. You have any cooking experience?"

"Well, I have had to learn how to cook lately with…that's fine, I'll help," Alan said quickly.

"Hey," a couple of the children that had come on the bus with the rest of the Sesame Street humans appeared in the doorway, "We're going sledding. Want to come?"

"Sure," Christine ran to join them. Zachary, however, sat down on the nearest chair and shook his head. "You sure, Zack?" Alan asked his son, worried, "It'll probably be fun, and you haven't had much fun lately."

"I'm not really up to it, Dad," Zachary wasn't angry, but there was great finality in his answer. Alan shook his head. "Well, if you want to do anything, I'll be downstairs working on dinner," told him, only reluctantly walking toward the door. Zachary nodded softly and stared down at the floor.

"Is he all right?" Kermit asked his guest, equally concerned.

"Not really," Alan told him, "It's a long story, I'll tell it to you later."

"Well then, I might as well go put your things in the closet and…AAAAHHHH!" Kermit dropped the suitcases in shock, for Piggy was unexpectedly waiting inside the closet. "Oh Kermit my love," she gushed melodramatically, advancing toward him, "Do you know how long it's been since we've been alone together?"

"Uh, not really, Piggy," Kermit gulped nervously, inching toward the door, "Uh, can we talk about this later?"

"Take me now!" the pig leaped at him, "Give me the greatest holiday present; tell me you love me! Give the pig a kiss!"

She leaned toward him, her lips puckered. Kermit rushed into the hall and slammed the room door shut behind him, breathing in relief. "That was close," he whispered to himself—only to jump in surprise as the doorframe shattered and Piggy's lips protruded out inches from his face. "Kiss me, Kermie, kiss me!" she was shrieking almost hysterically, grabbing him around the middle before he could flee.

"HHEEEEEEELLLLLLLLLPPPPPPPPPP!" Kermit shrieked loud enough to be heard halfway across the county.

* * *

"Excuse me, excuse me," Luis walked over to the head cook in the kitchen about twenty minutes later, "I can't understand a word of this. You want me to give you WHAT to put in the stew?"

"Meer bork asken for tablespoonen tabasco saucen," the Swedish Chef informed the Fix-It Shop proprietor, holding up an ingredient checklist to his face. Luis shook his head and reached for the nearest cabinet. Across from him, Alan stirred a pot of stuffing as fast as he could. He could tell why Kermit was concerned about getting dinner ready; even with a kitchen full of would-be cooks, including Fran, Nigel the Conductor, and Mr. Macintosh, there just seemed to be too much food to prepare for the guests that were all to be there. "We'll never get this all done by dinnertime."

"That's where you're wrong, my friend," Dr. Bunsen Honeydew appeared at his shoulder, "For the last month we at Muppet Labs having been working on this very dilemma and have developed what I call Instant Cookers."

"Instant Cookers?"

"That's right," the scientist said, "Show him one, Beaker."

His assistant stepped forward, clutching what looked like a miniature pressure cooker. "What you do," Bunsen continued, is put any uncooked food inside," he reached into the refrigerator and extracted a bowl of frozen corn, "Stick it into the Instant Cooker, and set it on High like so. Within ten seconds, the product will be heated to five hundred degrees Fahrenheit by use of liquid magma stored inside a chamber along the side."

He pressed a button on the top of the device. There was a whistle as it came to life. "Once you extract it, everything will be cooked and ready to go," the scientist explained, "Of course, you would have to be careful of the exhaust burst that will occur periodically to relieve excess heat."

It was at this moment that the exhaust in question exploded out of a vent, setting Beaker's hair on fire. Beaker ran around in circles, screaming at the top of his lungs. Bunsen apparently didn't notice his assistant's predicament. "Mrs. Sinclair, give us some of those cookies," he told Fran, "We'll need to start now if we're to finish them all by tonight. Stop fooling around, Beaker, we have work to do."

Beaker, frantic, turned on the faucet to fill up the sink and dunked his head under the water to extinguish the flames. Alan couldn't help having a small chuckle, the first he'd had in a long time. There was a dinging sound as the blueberry pies he'd put in the oven when he'd started cooking were completed. "Borken meer unen," the Chef gestured at him as he pulled them out of the oven.

"Why?" Alan handed him one nonetheless.

"Watchen, eeden orden mit chickenen," the chef produced a rubber chicken and tossed it into the large pot boiling in front of him, "Potten," he took a smaller pot off the shelf and threw it in as well, "Pie," he threw the pie in, pan and all, "Voila, chickenen potten pie!"

The kitchen door slid open. "Put more radishes in the microwave," Emily called at Mr. Macintosh, "Kermit says we're going to need a load of radish casseroles for later."

"More radishes, coming up," Mr. Macintosh pulled several off his cart and tossed them over his back at Nigel. Emily walked over to where Bunsen was making adjustments to the Instant Cooker. "Are you sure that thing's going to work?" she asked him.

"Trust me, all the bugs have been worked out," Bunsen reassured her. It was then, though, that the machine vented flames again, once against igniting Beaker's hair. "MEEP, MEEP MEEP!" he shrieked, throwing open the window and diving out it into the nearest snow bank. "Stop lying around on the job, Beaker," Bunsen upbraided him, "We have work to do."

Emily shook her head. "How're you doing?" she asked Alan. Without waiting for an answer, she sniffed some of the pies. "Practically perfect," she complimented, "Just like my husband used to make."

"Where is Mr., um, Bear?" Alan asked her.

"Griswold unfortunately passed away four years ago," Emily noted sadly, "On this very day, I'm sorry to say. That's one of the reason I'm willing to let Fozzie bring all his friends over, it does feel good to not be alone. Of course, there's probably as many people to make friends with in California, but…oh never mind."

"What did he die of?" the human's interested was piqued.

"Heart attack," the bear shook her head, "He had been seeing the doctor about it for about a year, but it hit Fozzie and I like a bolt from the blue when he keeled over at the skating rink. And at first we thought he was just acting. Funny isn't it, how people can seem healthy on the outside but be not so great underneath?"

"Yeah," Alan glanced sadly at the window where he watched Christine sledding with Maria down the hillside behind the farmhouse, "It's amazing how these things can strike without warning." Before he could mope too much about his daughter's tragic misfortune, however, something brightly colored caught his eye. "Hello, who have we coming now?" he exclaimed, looking toward the horizon, "I don't believe it. Say Mrs. Bear, do you have any birdseed handy here?"

* * *

"Do you hear that?" Christine raised her hand. The sound of caroling could be heard from over the hill. Moments later, the head of a large yellow bird came into sight, followed by creatures of all sizes and colors. "Christmastime is here," they were all singing, "happiness and cheer. Fun for all, that children call their favorite time of year. Snowflakes in the air, carols everywhere, olden times and ancient rhymes of love and dreams to share. Sleigh bells in the air, beauty everywhere, yuletide by the fireside, and joyful memories there."

"All rubbish," Oscar the grouch quipped from the back of the procession. They all came to a stop at the top of the hill. "Wow, sledding," Big Bird commented, "Can I try it for a minute?"

"Sure," the boy he was talking to handed him his sled. The large canary zoomed to the bottom of the hill on it, crying out in excitement the whole way down. "Maria, you made it," he told his human friend as he skidded to a stop nearby, "With the storm what it was, I was afraid you guys wouldn't make it."

"They came in at the same time we did, "Christine extended her hand to Big Bird, "I'm Christine."

"It's an honor to meet you, Christine, " Big Bird shook her hand, "We would have been here sooner, but the…Snuffy, watch it!"

For Mr. Snuffleupagus was attempting the same sledding feat his friend had just done, but was instead falling back on his back. Upon rolling to the bottom of the hill, he stumbled around to get to his feet again. "Apparently sledding's not for four-legged creatures," he remarked.

"Where did you all park?" Maria asked Big Bird, scanning the parking area, which was empty except for the vehicles that had already arrived.

"Actually the bus broke down about five miles up the road," Grover huffed up, "We all had to walk the whole way. Is there any hot chocolate out here for a poor exhausted monster?"

"Oscar, I thought I told you to fix that bus Grungetta's aunt loaned you?" Maria scolded the grouch.

"How many time have a told you, I prefer it wrecked!" Oscar protested, "It's much more appealing that way. Anyway, can we just go inside and get all this fake cheeriness out of the way as quickly and painlessly as possible so I can get back to my usual miserable life?"

There was an abrupt crash of thunder and lightning from the heavens, even though the sun was starting to come out a little bit. "Thirteen, thirteen young sledders, ah ha ha ha ha!" the Count laughed happily after having counted the children around them, "There's so many things to count here, like those birds in the in the trees! One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, eight beautiful birds!"

"Will somebody please tape his mouth shut for the night?" Oscar grumbled as the thunder and lightning crashed again, "One side people, unhappy grouch coming through!"

He pushed past everyone. Despite the fact their feelings were contrary to his, a procession of non-human Sesame Street residents followed him toward the door. Big Bird and Snuffleupagus remained behind with Maria and the children. "It's been so long since I've been sledding," the canary remarked.

"You can use my sled if you want," Christine handed it to him, "I know about cooperation.

"Thank you," Big Bird rubbed her head, "I appreciate this."

"I'd love to go too, Bird," Snuffleupagus looked at the sled with apprehension, "But something tells me I'm not quite cut out for it."

"You know how you can play along, Snuffy?" his best friend posed, "You can be a bridge on the slope for us to go under."

"Works for me," the large creature patted the bird on the shoulder with his snuffle.

Meanwhile, Bert rang the farmhouse's doorbell. "Don't want any!" Fozzie yelled out jokingly.

"It's only us," Bert started forward, only to become the latest person to slip. "Careful of the icy patch!" came a chorus of shouts from inside. Kermit opened the door. "Come on in folks, we've been expecting you all," he waved them in. Each of them slipped on the icy patch in turn. "Coats over the corner there," the frog pointed it out, "You're just in time, we were just about to start singing the first couple of songs."

"COOKIES!" Cookie Monster ran for the kitchen, having already smelled the cookies being baked within. "No please Cookie Monster, not yet!" Bob leaped off the sofa and tried to restraint his neighbor as best he could, "You can't eat all the cookies now! There'll be none for later!"

"Aw shucks!" the monster muttered in frustration.

"Hey, would you losers keep it down over there!" Oscar yelled into the corner where Clifford and the Electric Mayhem were tuning up, "I can't wallow in self-pity if you're banging away like that!"

"Cool it, cat!" Floyd Pepper scolded the grouch, "We gotta be hot if we hope to be cool tonight."

"And cool we will be," Hoots the owl landed next to the guitar player, "What's our first tune for tonight?"

Floyd went over with the owl the programs for the evening. As the various residents of Sesame Street milled about the room catching up with old friends, Kermit noticed a familiar face enter the living room. "So you decided to come down after all, Zack?" he asked the boy.

"Just till we have dinner," Zachary told him softly, "Then I'll go back up."

"Well, I think you're going to miss out on a lot of interesting things here if you do that," Kermit told him, "For example, we're going…"

"I can hear more people coming, Uncle Kermit," Robin called from the doorframe. Sure enough, more carolers could be heard approaching the house singing, "If you look to the good side, falling down's a free ride, slipping and a-sliding in the mud. If your back is hurtin', I can say for certain I'll be there to treat you to a soothing back rub, when there ain't no hole in the wash…WHOOOOOOOAAAA!"

"Careful of the icy patch!" everyone called out as the sound of several people falling at once could be heard. Kermit opened the door. "You OK, Uncle Bullfrog?" he asked the well-dressed bullfrog who was right on the doorstep.

"Kermit my boy," Doc Bullfrog hugged him close, "And Robin, how's the best grandnephew a frog can't ask for?"

"Pretty good Uncle Bullfrog, it's been a while," Robin embraced him as well. Kermit stepped aside. Emmett, Alice, so glad you could join us here," he told the otters behind his uncle, "And the rest of your band mates too."

"Say Kermit, where were you last time?" Harvey the beaver asked as he entered the house, his washboard and kazoo in hand, "I thought you were going to be at the Riverside Rest to watch our holiday show?"

"You see, that's the funny thing, Harvey," Kermit told him, "One moment I'm there watching the show, and the next thing I know, I'm not. Strange circumstances, very strange. Well, at least I can promise you a good paycheck for agreeing to play here tonight for our holiday get-together."

"Do we get mashed potatoes?" Wendell the porcupine asked. He was the last member of the group inside, carrying everyone's presents.

"Of course, Wendell, we're cooking them up right now as I speak," Kermit said. He gave the porcupine a pat on the back—and immediately grimaced from the quills now embedded in his flipper. Doc Bullfrog helped his nephew pull them out one at a time. "The Foxes and Will Possum'll be along later," he told them, "They still had business to attend to back in Waterville."

"Hold the door!" shouted a voice running up the driveway, "Explorer coming through, ex—WHHOOOOAAAAA!"

"Careful of the icy patch!" everyone shouted again. Traveling Matt Fraggle staggered through the door, shattered packages in hand. "Sorry I'm late," he announced to anyone who cared to listen, "I got the invitation."

Zachary walked up to the newcomer. "What are you?" he asked him.

"I am an explorer," Matt proclaimed proudly, "The greatest of my generation."

"No, I mean what ARE you?" the boy pressed.

"A Fraggle. Haven't you ever seen one before?"

"You can't be," Zachary said dismissively, "There are no such things as Fraggles."

"Yes there are," Robin piped up, "In fact, there's a whole colony down in the basement. We were inside it last year, weren't we Uncle Kermit?"

"Yes," Kermit glanced up at the clock, "In fact, if their message told me right, they should be just about done their festivities right about now. They said to meet them inside at the great junction, wherever that was." He looked up at Zachary. "Why don't you come along with us, Zack, and see that magic does exist right underneath us?"

Zachary shrugged. "I think this is crazy," he commented softly, but nonetheless he followed the frogs toward the basement. Matt sided up alongside Emmett and stared in wonder at his washtub bass. "And what is that strange device?" he asked the otter, "I've never seen a silly creature with that before."

"It's a musical instrument," Emmett explained, "I had to put a hole in the washtub to make it. Good thing we were able to buy a new one with the money we've got from working the Riverside Rest, right Ma?"

"Absolutely, Emmett," his mother agreed, "In fact, I think by now we've almost managed to replace everything we had to sell off after Pa died."

"Hey Emmett, we're getting set up in here," Charlie the muskrat stuck his head around the corner, "We're going to be playing next to this weird blue guy with the saxophone and the dog with the piano."

"Right, I'll be in in a minute," Emmett strolled toward his band mates. Matt pulled out a postcard from his backpack. "AND SO NEPHEW GOBO," he wrote on it, "FOR THIS CHRISTMAS I HAVE DISCOVERED THAT TALKING FURRY CREATURES PLAY DIFFERENT MUSICAL INSTRUMENTS THAN THE SILLY CREATURES I NORMALLY ENCOUNTER…"


	5. Up from Fraggle Rock (and Outer Space)

"This is it, this is the Fraggle hole," Robin proclaimed, pointing at the large hole in the basement wall. Zachary bent down and glanced inside. "So?" he asked, not convinced, "There's a cave, but that doesn't prove anything."

"Why are you so convinced there's nothing down there?" Kermit had to know, "You'll never see anything if you only look with your eyes, Zack."

"It's just not logical for something so big like a Fraggle colony to exist under our noses without us noticing," the boy pointed out, "Fraggles are just part of imagination like dragons and griffins and…Santa."

"Sheesh, he's really lost his imagination far too young," Kermit whispered softly to his nephew. "Now surely you can't believe Santa's a myth," he told Zachary.

"Then how does he gets the presents around the world in one night?" Zachary asked him, "Tell me how that can be possible? And how come a lot of good people, especially poor people, end up with nothing if he cares that much for everyone?"

"Well, I happen to know Santa does exist," Kermit said, "In fact, a few years back I went around interviewing people on Sesame Street on that very topic and got a number of…"

"Listen," Robin held up his flipper. The distant sounds of bells could be heard coming from inside the hole. "Hmm, that's interesting," his uncle remarked, "Must be some kind of ceremony."

"It's probably just from some house up the road, echoing through the pipes," Zachary still didn't believe it. Kermit sighed and handed him a flashlight. "Just watch," he told the boy, "They'll come out. We have an arrangement. Come on Robin, we might as well tell them it's just about time."

The two frogs walked into the hole and turned right up the large cavern before them. The beam of Zachary's flashlight illuminated the walls around them for a few feet. "Hello?" Kermit called up the tunnel, "Fraggles? It's Kermit the frog, I'm here for Christmas? Anyone here?"

"Do you hear that, Uncle Kermit?" Robin asked him. The sound of a pipe being played could be heard getting closer. Without warning, a large orange-hued Fraggle with red tufts on his head came around the corner, playing on the pipe in question. The frogs jumped in surprise at his entrance. The Fraggle, on the other hand, seemed almost nonchalant. "You're a couple of minutes early," he told them once he had finished his tune, "But close enough. The Festival of the Bells is just about over for this year, thankfully without any hitches this time."

"Have we met before?" Kermit frowned at the newcomer, "I have the distinct feeling we know each other."

"I am Cantus the Minstrel," the Fraggle told him, "I travel the Rock making music. As fate would have it, I've traveled here now."

"Cantus? No, that doesn't really ring a bell," Kermit's words were immediately followed by the sounds of more bells ringing in the distance. "Or maybe it does," he quickly added.

The bell ringing got even louder as five more Fraggles Kermit was familiar with appeared out of the same tunnel Cantus had come up. "It's Kermit," proclaimed the tallest one with the blue hair, "I thought I'd heard him calling. It's wonderful to see…"

"AAAAAACCCCCKKKK!" Boober shrieked out loud, pointing hysterically at Zachary's face peering in through the hole behind the frogs, "A Silly Creature! It's an invasion! Sound the alarm! Call out the Catapult Brigade! Mobilize the…!"

"Relax Boober," Gobo calmed his friend, "It's only a little one. He can't hurt us." He walked without any fear up to the hole. "Hello, I'm Gobo," he announced.

"Are you a…Fraggle?" Zachary picked him up and stared at him intensely.

"No, we're all a pack of poison cacklers," Red commented with a tinge of sarcasm as everyone made their way back out of the hole, "Yes, of course we're Fraggles. So where's the Christmas goodies?"

"It's all upstairs," Kermit told her, "We're going to have a lot of food and songs tonight, and later we're going to break the piñata and go for a sleigh ride and lots of other neat stuff I think you'll enjoy."

"I think we will," Wembley agreed, "Ever since you gave us that brief glimpse of Christmas last year, Kermit, I've wanted to see what the rest of the silly creature holiday is like."

"I too," Mokey added, "I've brought enough paper to write at least twenty new poems on the meanings of Christmas."

"What are these bells for?" Zachary flicked the one in Wembley's hand in wonder.

"We just got done finishing the Festival of the Bells," Gobo explained to him, "Every year at this time we all ring our bells to keep the Rock warm for the whole year."

"And now we all know that the Great Bell at the heart of the Rock will keep it warm no matter what," Cantus gave Gobo a knowing wink. He approached Zachary. "Tell me child, what seems to be bothering you? I can sense you need someone to talk to."

"How can you tell?" Zachary frowned.

"If you keep building your dam tighter and tighter, the water will only rise higher until it bursts," the Minstrel told him in lieu of a direct answer, "Thus, it may help you to tell me what your ailment is."

"Can I trust you?" the boy asked him.

"If you tell me nothing, there's no way I could help you," Cantus pointed out. Zachary nodded slowly. "Only in private," he told him, "I'm not really comfortable right now…you know."

"In that case, I request some privacy," Cantus told the others.

"No problem, I'll the others upstairs," Kermit nodded in agreement, "Come on you guys, the party's just getting started."

"Great, I love parties!" Red practically fell over herself running up the basement stairs, "I'll probably win every game!"

"Do you think she's excited?" Kermit asided to Gobo as they all followed her, "By the way, your uncle showed up already. Says he's got a new postcard for you; I think he was thinking of mailing it."

"Hey look!" Wembley pointed at the windows, outside of which the snow was falling hard again, "The silly creatures all forgot to ring their bells! Outer Space is frozen solid already!"

"Well, so much for the fun stuff," Red sighed in disappointment.

"No, actually, this works better," Kermit told her, "In fact, we'll be able to do loads more if there's a lot of snow on the ground. Although," he realized abruptly, "This would mean the Reisers don't have a chance to get to the airport now if it keeps up like this."

"Who?" Boober asked.

"The little boy's…" Kermit was cut off by the sound of the doorbell ringing again, followed by the person slipping as well. "Careful of the icy patch!" everyone called out yet again. Gonzo, who was nearest the door, threw it open. "Great, it's not the turkey," the whatever said with a sigh of relief, "If he shows his beak around here this year…"

"I think the turkey would be here by now if he was coming back, Gonzo. Come on in, Mr. Storyteller," Rowlf gestured the elderly man and his dog inside, "Was it a rough ride over?"

"It was for the last few miles," the Storyteller shook the snow off his coat and handed it to the dog, "Boy, I've never seen a storm like this. I'll be telling about it for years to come."

"Here, let me get those presents off your hands," Rowlf took them out of his hands, "I'll just go put them over here under the tree by the ones we brought." The dog frowned as he noticed the package the Baseball Diamond was wrapped in. "I don't remember bringing this one," he mused for a moment, but then merely shrugged and went back with the other presents. "Hey, you bring the chips?" he asked the Storyteller's dog, "The rest of the guys'll be starting the poker marathon in the den in about an hour or so—not for money, of course."

The other dog nodded at Rowlf and trotted into the den. As they passed the basement door, Zachary and Cantus emerged. "So, you guys have a nice chat?" Kermit asked them.

"We have talked about believing in the unseen and not holding in our feelings until they hurt," the Minstrel proclaimed, "And he informed me how his greatest Christmas wish is to see his mother for the holidays."

"Well, that's probably not coming to anything," Boober remarked, staring over Earl's shoulder at the TV screen, on which Howard Handupme was showing the weather, "This strange device says we're going to get two more feet of this fluffy white stuff between now and tomorrow morning, since this snowstorm's merging with another one directly overhead of us, whatever that's supposed to mean."

"I knew it," Zachary slumped to the floor, "I knew she wasn't going to come."

"Now don't give up like that, " Cantus tried to reassure him, "A miracle can occur at any time."

"But they don't just drop out of the sky!" the boy protested. It was at this moment that a strange humming sound could be heard directly overhead. "Ah, they did make it," Kermit commented, "And right on time too. All right, welcoming committee to the roof, welcoming committee to the roof."

There was a scramble for the stairs as about a dozen Muppets followed the frog to the roof, where a large spaceship was touching down. With a hiss, the door slid open. Out of the smoke inexplicably pouring from the inside trudged a small elfin figure with pointed ears and a cane. "Master Yoda, welcome to my humble home," Emily bowed down for the Jedi Master, prompting the others in the group to follow suit.

"A pleasure to be here it is," Yoda told her, "Stay here long, though, I cannot. Due on Kashyyk for Life Day celebrations, I am."

"By the way, is that ever going to see a home release?" Scooter inquired.

"Not if the Master anything to say has," Yoda shook his head. A gang of rough-looking creatures followed him off the ship. "Thank God we got through this," commented the small buzzard-like creature up front, "I've had to go the bathroom for the last ten million miles."

"Scred, why didn't you go when we stopped on Neptune!" King Ploobis demanded, whacking his aide hard across the face.

"Sorry your highness," Scred stammered apologetically, "But it's not my fault Crichton couldn't get a rental ship without toilet…WHOOOOOOAAAAA!"

"Careful of the other icy patch!" everyone called out as the residents of Gorch slipped on the spot Yoda had magically walked over without any problems. Behind them came the residents of Koozebane and the Yip-Yips, who also slipped. "Just be careful, no need to rush in a storm like this," Kermit told them all, "In through the window there, dinner should be done in the next two hours or so." He turned to Fozzie next to him. "Boy I'll tell you, you know you're doing good when you get these people to come thousands of miles to celebrate the holidays with us," he told the bear, "Jim would be so proud to see such diversity for peace and love if he were still here."

"And at least the good thing about this storm is nobody's going to interrupt our celebration for anything," Fozzie agreed, trying to catch some snowflakes on his tongue.

* * *

Unbeknownst to the large party, the Dry Bandits were at that moment pulling into a large vacant parking garage in Boulderville. Larry glanced around as they reached the third level. The only other cars around were a pair of limos about midway through the structure. He coasted up alongside the two figures in hats, trench coats and dark glasses that were standing beside them. "Top of the morning Ms. Bitterman, Mr. Hopper," he announced loudly as he climbed out of the cab of his truck.

"Could you not telegraph to the whole world that we're all here?" Rachel Bitterman hissed at him, "We agreed we would be meeting in secret! Do you have what we asked for?"

"It's right in the back here, as good as new," Larry gestured for the Riverbottom Gang to fetch the Baseball Diamond.

"You didn't have any trouble getting it?" Doc Hopper implored.

"No, no trouble, no trouble at all, Doc," the Weasel told him, sifting through the junk in the back of the truck.

"Then it's all set," the restaurateur looked upward with a grand look in his eyes behind the shades, "Once we pawn the diamond on the black market, Bitterman International and Doc Hopper French Fried Frog Legs will have enough capital to essentially take over the world! We can buy out politicians, control television and film, corner the world market, anything we please, because we'll be filthy rich!"

"We know that already, boss," the Lizard told him.

"I'm not talking to you!" Hopper upbraided him, "I'm spelling this all out for the readers! They'll need to know what our essential goal is so we won't look one dimensional!"

"So where is the diamond?" Bitterman asked the Riverbottomers impatiently, "You said you had it!"

"Um," the Snake looked very worried as it threw trash aside with no sign of the package the diamond had been in within sight, "Uh, Miss Bitterman, could you take a bit of bad news?"

"YOU IDIOTS!" Bitterman shrieked at them, "HOW DARE YOU LOSE THE DIAMOND?"

"Drat, she guessed it without us giving any clues!" the Pop-Eyed Catfish groaned. Bitterman grabbed Chuck by the collar. "I've been planning this for six months!" she screamed in the bear's face, "You and your moron squad better find it in twenty-four hours, or you'll be a rug on my office floor!"

"Does that apply to us too?" Bo asked innocently.

"Yes!" the businesswoman shrieked at him, "I don't care how you find the diamond, just find it and find it now!"

"Uh, that would be great, except we don't know where we lost it," Bo pointed out, "Any ideas, Larry?"

"I know, we'll retrace our steps," Larry realized. Without warning he blurted out, "Top of the morning Ms. Bitterman, Mr. Hopper," again, and then began walking backwards toward the truck's cab. "Then I put the truck in park," he said to himself, starting the engine again. The rest of his group also walked backwards and joined him in the truck, which began driving very slowly backwards out of the garage. Bitterman and Hopper exchanged frustrated glances as their associates left. "I knew we shouldn't have trusted this to them," the former grumbled.

"No problem," Hopper began dialing his cell phone, "I'm calling in several specialists just in case they screw up again. We'll get that diamond yet."


	6. Holiday Films

"Und hieren tossen die cranberren huuuup!" the Swedish Chef tossed several cranberries up in the air and smashed them with a mallet, "Wir haar instanten cranberren saucen! Und mur cranberren huuuuup, und mur cranberren saucen. Und mur cranberren huuup…"

"I think you've got enough cranberry sauce there," Emily informed her head cook, pointing to the large bowl of it right in front of him, "If you make any more of it, we'll be eating it until Memorial Day."

"Iiff yord sayen," the Chef shrugged, "Nexten menu itemen roost lobster. Hieren lobster, lobster, lobster."

He reached into a nearby crate and extracted Polly Lobster from it. Polly took one look at the boiling pot he was carrying her toward and pinched his nose. "OOOOWWWWW, weiden doot that!" the Chef howled, dropping Polly to the table.

"If I wanted to go in a hot tub, pal, I'd have bought one of my own!" Polly told him, "Come on guys, we don't have to stick around for this dinner!"

Almost a dozen lobsters poured out of the crate, evading the Chef's attempts to grab them all up. They rushed for the kitchen door, bowling over Rizzo as he came in. "Hey, what is this, the Lobsterapolis 500?" the rat complained, heaving himself back to his feet.

"Ratten alerten!" the Chef started tossing various cooking utensils at Rizzo, forcing him to duck to safety under the sink. "Cut it out!" Rizzo shouted at him, "I just came in to say that Ernie and Bert brought some old Christmas films with them, and they'll be running them in the theater in ten minutes!"

"There's a theater in here too?" Alan asked Emily in amazement.

"It was Fozzie's idea," the older bear told him, "He thought we could have a specific place to air films and perform this year, just so we could ease overcrowding a little bit."

"Say, is my cheese cannoli almost done, Mrs. Sinclair?" Rizzo pressed Fran.

"I'm working on it," Fran told him, "Try to have patience."

"Have patience? When I haven't eaten since last night?" Rizzo griped, "If I wanted to have patience, I would have become a doctor."

"Funny, very funny," Doc remarked as the rat staggered back out the door with comical hunger exaggeration (he'd joined the cooking staff a half hour earlier at Kermit's request, as they had still been way behind with the food for dinner), "I could swear the rat could be a better comedian than the bear."

"Huh?" Fozzie unexpectedly stuck his head in through the door.

"Nothing, nothing," the inventor waved him off, "Weren't you telling that joke about the sloth and the construction worker?"

"They heckled me off," Fozzie pointed glumly at Statler and Waldorf on the sofa, "I swear they never give up, even for Christmas."

He shrugged and left. No sooner had he left than Grover appeared. "Pardon me," the monster announced, "But are you still looking for qualified waiters to serve the food?"

"If you have experience, certainly," Emily said.

"Have I got experience?" Grover's chest swelled with pride, "You are looking at the finest waiter at Charlie's Restaurant, Mrs. Bear. When you see me at work, you will know what precision serving is."

He left the kitchen. "Dr. Honeydew, pass along some of your All-Purpose Tenderizer," Nigel called to Bunsen, "This stuffing's hard as a brick."

"That's because it IS a brick," Mr. Macintosh pulled a brick out of the pot in front of Nigel, "I told Oscar to stay out of…"

"Hey, we need a hundred and nine cheeseburgers," Scred staggered into through the door.

"What do you mean cheeseburgers, pal?" Doc raised his eyebrows, "This is a Christmas dinner; we're not cooking cheeseburgers."

"I've got the orders right here," Scred held it up. With his other hand, he pointed around the living room at everyone in it at the moment, "Cheeseburger, cheeseburger, cheeseburger, cheeseburger, cheeseburger, cheeseburger, cheeseburger, cheeseburger, cheeseburger, cheeseburger, cheeseburger, cheeseburger, cheeseburger, cheeseburger, cheeseburger, cheeseburger, cheeseburger…"

"What's this you're holding?" Doc yanked a flask out of Scred's hand, "You've been stocking up on the liquor, haven't you, you uncouth extraterrestrial?"

"Cut me a break, ever since Gorch burned down, I've had to hoard," Scred protested, "Get the cheeseburgers ready; everyone's hungry."

He stumbled drunkenly back out the door. "I swear some of these people are even weirder than weird," Doc confided in Alan, "Heaven help us if he starts doing Samurai Delicatessen."

Alan grunted in agreement. It was then that the timer on his stove went off, indicating the final batch of cookies he'd put in was done. He pulled them out of the oven and laid the pan next to the five dozen others he'd managed to bake over the last hour. "Those smell wonderful," Emily complimented him, "You can take a break now; there's not much left to whip up. You really helped us here a lot."

"Glad to know I could be of some help, Mrs. Bear," Alan told her. He took off his apron and strolled out into the living room, where Clifford and the Electric Mayhem were performing on the large stage with Christmas lights all around that they'd erected in the corner. "You will get a sentimental feeling when you hear," Floyd Pepper was crooning as he strummed away hard on his guitar, "Voices singing let's be jolly, deck the halls with boughs of holly."

"Rocking around the Christmas tree; have a happy holidays," Janice sang out, "Everyone dancing merrily…"

"IN THE NEW OLD FASHIONED WAAAAAAAAYYYYY!" all seven band members on stage sang the finale together, capped by a final saxophone blast from Zoot. A decent applause swept the room from the various people that had been watching the performance. "Brilliant!" Statler proclaimed from his sofa seat in the back.

"Ah, it was terrible!" Waldorf snorted.

"Enlightening!" his brother-in-law countered.

"Dismal!" Waldorf grumbled.

"Yeah, it was pretty dismal," Statler abruptly agreed. No one on stage seemed to notice this dismissal of their talents. "And now for your listening pleasure," Clifford addressed everyone, "Our friends in the Frogtown Hollow Jug Band would like to play a more contemporary holiday favorite. Hit it, boys."

He pointed to a smaller stage next to the one they were one. Wendell blew the first few notes of the song across his jug. His band mates joined in after a few notes. "The mood is right," they all sang together, "The party's up, we're here tonight, and that's enough. Simply having a wonderful Christmastime, we're simply having a wonderful Christmastime…"

"Ah, nothing perks you up like Christmas music," came Miss Piggy's voice from behind Alan. The pig was leaning against the mantle, a bizarre expression of bliss blanketing her face. "Well, I suppose so," the human agreed, "Although Christmases when I was young weren't quite so merry, Piggy. You see,…"

"The roaring fire, the brightly-lit tree, the mistletoe hanging from the ceiling," Piggy leaned across his chest, not paying any attention, "The moment is ripe for romance, as it will be for the frog of my dreams and _moi_ once we finally get together tonight and make beautiful Christmas music together."

Alan found himself chuckling softly again. "Well, all I can say is, even offstage you're still a ham," he remarked innocently.

"WHAT?" Piggy gave him an offended glare, "Don't talk vulgar to me, buddy! HIIIIIIIYYYAAAAAA!"

She karate chopped him in the chest and skulked off. Susan approached Alan as he doubled over. "Do you need some first aid?" she asked him.

"No, I think I'm all right," he told her, "She just caught me by surprise, that's all."

He took several deep breaths and rose upright again. "So, this is the first time you and Mr. Robinson have been here?" he asked her.

"Yes," Susan informed him, "We may not even have known about it at all. A lot of the people on the street decided to go caroling up in Steelville last year, and they sort of ended up here almost by accident. They said it was the best Christmas they'd had, so we had to come see for ourselves. I do like it; it's a nice respite from the inner city. I'm surprised you would even be out on the roads today though, Mr. Reiser."

"Well, we were all so eager to see Alicia again," Alan told her, "Now with this mess out there, I don't know if we'll get the chance. And if what Dr. Leiderkrantz said was true last time, then it may be her last…"

He couldn't finish. "I know," Susan looked depressed herself, "It's always sad to see a terminal illness at the Clinic in kids so young. And Christine's someone who really didn't deserve it."

"Tell me, do you as a nurse see any possibility he might have gotten it wrong to a degree?" Alan had to know, "Any small chance it might not be the end if…"

"I'm sorry Mr. Reiser, but I'm afraid her condition is terminal," Susan shook her head sadly, "There's simply no other way around it. One thing you should be thankful for is that you have the insurance for her; half the people I treat don't have any medical coverage at…AAAAAAAAHHHHH! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"

For Animal was now leaning into her leg. "WO-MAN, WO-MAN!" the Electric Mayhem's drummer was yelling loudly.

"GORRRRRDOOOONNNNN!" Susan shrieked. Moments later Gordon came stomping across the room and pried Animal off his wife's leg. "Get your own woman!" he ordered the drummer.

"Sorry," Animal shuffled off. It was at this very moment that Christine and Big Bird came in from outside, the latter with snow all over his feathers. "So, did you enjoy sledding?" Alan asked his daughter.

"A lot," Christine told him. She glanced up at Susan. "Were you talking about what Dr. Leiderkrantz said? Am I going to be all right?"

"Sure you are, sweetheart," Alan hugged her tight. He glanced at the Robinsons and mouthed, "_I just can't tell her."_

"Well that snow sure is getting a whole lot worse," Big Bird remarked as he hung his scarf up on the coat rack and shook the snow out of his plumage in front of the fireplace, "I hope Santa's got strong headlights on his sleigh tonight."

"So let me get this straight," Wembley piped up from the fireplace mantle, on which he and the other Fraggles were now sitting enjoying the songs, "At the top of Outer Space there lives a Silly Creature who dresses all in red and flies through the air to give people presents?"

"Absolutely," Big Bird said.

"That is the dumbest thing I've ever heard," Red grumbled, "Flying reindeer? I mean look at them," she pointed a reindeer on one of the stocking hung by the fireplace, "I'd believe a Doozer could fly more easily than those things. And how does he manage to get around the whole world in a single night?"

"I've got some theories," Rugby spoke up from under the tree, where he and several other familiar toys were lying unwrapped, "Of course, since I was wrapped up the whole time, I can't verify anything, but…"

"Well, we might find out for sure tonight," Big Bird proclaimed, "I'm going to check out the chimney later tonight and find out for sure how it works."

"Now Big Bird," Gordon admonished him, "We had an agreement you would not go running off trying to prove something you don't have to again."

"But Gordon, this is different this time!" the canary protested, "You'll know exactly where I am! And I'll take an extra…!"

Kermit appeared at that moment in the doorway the hotel section of the house. "The film will be starting in three minutes," he announced over the megaphone he was holding, "Everyone who wants to reserve a seat come and……AAAAAAHHHHHH!"

The frog was run over by a mass stampede of people running for the theater. "Sheesh, if I'd known they wanted to see it that badly…" he commented.

"What exactly's on the film?" Christine asked Kermit, helping him up.

"Bert and Ernie won't tell me, they say it's a surprise," Kermit explained, "I think you'll like it though."

The frog walked up the stairs to the projection booth at the top of the theater. Inside Bert was almost done threading the film into the projector. "How long's this supposed to last, you guys?" he asked them, "Not to complain, but as you know, some of these people can be antsy if something goes on too long."

"About ten, fifteen minutes, I guess," Ernie shrugged, "I think we were able to find about six or seven good sequences to put in this."

"That should do it right, I think," Kermit nodded. He took hold of the microphoneinside the projection booth. "Everyone seated and ready?" he asked everyone filing into the auditorium, "Is Animal all chained up?"

"WHOOOOAAAAA!" came a loud cry from the front row as Telly, who'd been unlucky enough to get a broken seat, fell forward, spilling the popcorn he'd brought with him everywhere. Next to him, Oscar snickered. "This is no time for fall, Telly," he derided the monster, "Winter already started a few days ago."

"I don't get it, Oscar," Telly looked puzzled.

"You wouldn't," the grouch told him. "Could you two goofballs start this up so we can get it over with?" he shouted up impatiently at the booth.

"Film all set, Bert?" Ernie asked his friend.

"All ready to go, Ernie," Bert closed the cover over the film and put his thumb by the start switch.

"Quiet in the room," Kermit called out over the microphone, "Dim the lights and roll it, Bert." Moments later after the countdown on the film had run its course, the frog shrieked in shock and jumped in front of the projector lens as a picture of several deer and the words STAG REEL appeared on the screen. "Don't anyone look!" he cried out, "Ernie, I thought this was a holiday film?"

"It's on here somewhere; let me see that, Bert," Ernie pushed his roommate aside and turned the projector's dial ahead. "Hey, this is neat," he exclaimed, pointing at the images shooting by on the screen very rapidly, "It's almost more entertaining than this would be at normal speed. We should watch it like this."

"Ernie, you've gone past it!" Bert cried, "Go back!"

"If you say so," Ernie rewound the tape. "I like this device," he remarked, "Just think, we can go back and forth," he abruptly turned the film forward again at high speed, "Back," he rewound it again, "And forth, back and forth, and the picture looks kind of funny too."

"Will you cut that out Ernie," Bert shouted at him, "You're going to wear the film out and break the projector!"

"But this is so much fun, Bert, back and forth, back and forth, we should do this back on Sesame Street to demonstrate forward and backwards," Ernie said in self-defense. It was at this moment that the film broke. Smoke poured from the projector. "EERRRRRRRRRRNNIIIEEEEEEEEE!" Bert screamed at him, "Now you've gone and done it! We can't show the film now!"

"Relax Bert, I brought a spare projector just in case," Ernie walked to the back of the booth and hefted an identical projector, with the film already in place. "You did?" Bert frowned, "You mean you just did what you did DELIBERATELY?"

"Oh well, as long as the film itself still works," Kermit helped pushed the wasted projector aside and the new one into place. "Rolling," he called out loud, flicking on the switch himself. For a few seconds the screen remained white. Then a dog sled ran toward the camera, with the viewpoint zooming in on the large number 1 on the musher's chest. When it filled the screen, a drum roll began, which precipitated two consecutive 10 counts on psychedelic backgrounds. "One two three four five six seven eight nine ten," counted a woman's voice over a hand counting along with her.

"Wait, haven't we seen this before," Kermit frowned, "This ran for years and…"

"No, it's the special holiday version you never saw before," Ernie corrected him, "Remember how there were never versions for number 1? They were supposed to be run in December. Watch."

The screen now featured a single tap-dancing snowman. It strutted sideways and fell off a cliff, falling apart as it did so. Some of its snowflakes morphed into a white bird, which flew up out of frame as the woman laconically buzzed, "One," several times. The sun rose up from below and immediately "froze" into a crescent moon. It then started spinning around and became a large snowball, which rolled down a hill. "Oooooonee!" the woman cried out on the soundtrack one more time as the snowball hit an ice wall and transformed into a large blue 1. Two more 10 counts rolled, followed by the ten familiar spies opening their coats to the tune of, "One two three four five six seven eight NIIIINE, TEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEENNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN!"

"Lame!" Statler yelled from the front row once the numbers had enlarged to black out the screen.

"Boring!" Waldorf concurred.

"Completely tripped out!" Statler added.

"Well, at least they didn't edit it for no reason," Waldorf reasoned.

"Yeah, good point," conceded his brother-in-law.  
The next film appeared on the screen. This one was a live action piece that featured several children of all ethnic backgrounds hanging holiday decorations around an urban neighborhood to the tune of "Feliz Navidad." "Stupid!" Oscar could be heard yelling at the screen in front row, "This is a 5 Phooey flick for sure!"

"Well I like it Oscar," Telly remarked, rocking along with the song as the children started decorating a makeshift Christmas tree, "I'd give it four Wows."

"Yeah, well this isn't Sneak Peak Previews, and thus you can't give out wows," Oscar reminded him, "So it's trash and thus Phooeys."

"Wows."

"Phooeys."

"Wows."

"Phooeys."

"Will you two cork it!" Kermit shouted down over the microphone, causing everyone in the theater to turn upwards and whisper, "SSSSSHHHHHHHHH!" at him. "Boy, rough crowd," the frog shrugged, backing away from the window.

The next segment started. "One," whispered a quartet of female singers, followed by the shot of an arm pulling back the handle of a familiar pinball machine. "One two three four five, six seven eight nine ten, eleven twelve," the singers announced out loud as the pinball rolled down into play.

"I can see why Silly Creatures end up being silly," Boober commented from the middle row, "Watching things like this all day can turn your mind to rot."

"Well I find it enlightening, little Boober," Mokey told him. She drew a quick picture of the inside of the pinball machine just before the ball disappeared down the hole to the segment of the day, "Although I have no clue what this is supposed to mean, I can see high artistic quality in it. If we can figure out how this works, we could do this back in Fraggle Rock."

"You'd have to capture that magical beam of light," Matt pointed up at the projector's light streaking toward the screen, "The silly creatures lock the picture inside of it. I noticed that when I saw one of these things about a Silly Creature that dresses up like a flying rodent to deter evil a few months back. Very strange."

"Speaking of strange Uncle Matt, what is that strange round thing supposed to be doing?" Gobo gestured at the film. The pinball was rolling across an Arctic environment. It rolled underneath a seal, causing it to clap its flippers. Then it knocked down a row of penguins as the singers proclaimed "One," together. The ball then tapped a polar bear, which made a leaping motion onto its hind legs, and ricocheted into a hole in the ice. A whale surfaced and spouted the ball into the air, where it landed in the back of Santa's sleigh flying overhead. The jolly old elf picked it up and dropped it down through a chimney below and out of play.

"Absolutely nothing," Matt informed his nephew as the pinball finished its run by rolling up the exit ramp, "This is another strange thing that silly creatures do for entertainment; they shoot those metal balls around a box for no reason at all. You would have to see it to believe it. Now what have we here?"

A British flag filled the screen. It pulled back to reveal the words MONSTERPIECE THEATER. The seen faded to a familiar study. "Good evening, and happy holidays, me Alistair Cookie," said the host, puffing away on his pipe, "Welcome to Monsterpiece Theater. Tonight, in time for Christmas, we present holiday classic, 'Miracle on 34th Street.' Me not seen it yet, but me know it take place on 34th Street. And now, 'Miracle on 34th Street."

"Me superstar!" the real Cookie Monster applauded from the back row, "Thanks Ern."

Ernie leaned out the booth window and gave his friend a thumbs-up. On screen now, the Count was leaning against a signpost when a generic businessman came up to him. "Pardon me sir, but can you direct me to 34th Street?" he asked him, "I need to find a miracle there."

"You have come to the right person," the vampire proclaimed, "I, Count von Count can easily count you up to 34th Street. Now, we are here at 1st Street. Follow me this way," he led the man to the right, "And here we are at 2nd Street, and if we go further, 3rd Street, and further…"

"Is this going to go on forever?" Oscar shouted out loud, "Because I already can't stand it!"

"I like that grouch," Waldorf asided to Statler, "He's our kind of guy."

Finally the Count and his associate reached 34th Street. "Thirty-four, thirty-four marvelous streets, ah ha ha ha ha ha!" the vampire laughed, causing the prerequisite thunder and lightning to crash. "Yeah, yeah, I know," the man with him grimaced, ducking low to avoid a direct lightning strike, "Now I need to find that miracle."

"I see it," the Count announced.

"You do, where?" the man asked him.

"Right in front of us, there are more streets before us!" the vampire gushed, "We can count them all! Come, let us count. Thirty-five, thirty-five beautiful streets! Thirty-six, thirty-six marvelous streets! Thirty-seven….!"

"And there you have it, 'Miracle on 34th Street,'" Alistair Cookie told the audience, "From all of us at Monsterpiece Theater, we wish you merry Christmas, and all those other holidays too."

He devoured his pipe as the end music came up. A new laugh filled the air in the second row at this, one that hadn't been heard before. Alan turned to his right. "So you actually liked that, Zack?" he asked his son, relieved to have heard the laughter; it had been so long since Zachary actually had laughed at anything.

"Well, sort of," the boy said quickly, apparently embarrassed to a degree that he'd given away his feelings.

"It's nothing to be ashamed about at all," his father hugged him close, "I'm glad you're enjoying a little bit of this. Are you making friends with some of the people here?"

"They're nice," Zachary told him, "But I still miss Mom."

"I know," Alan rubbed his hair, "But I'll bet she's at the airport right now, waiting to get on the plane here. You don't have anything to worry about, trust me."


	7. Hard to Figure Out This Chapter's Title

"But I'm telling you, I need to get back East as soon as possible!" a frustrated Alicia Reiser was screaming at the purple woman manning the Cross-American Airlines desk at LAX behind a nametag labeled HELLO MY NAME IS MILDRED, "I've waited all week for this flight, Mrs. Huxstetter, it just can't be cancelled!"

"Let me punch up the airport listings on the computer here," Mildred donned a boxing glove and punched the keyboard literally several times, "Ah yes, here we are, it says here all flights headed out over the Rockies are ordered grounded until further notice until the storms back East clear up."

"How about a rental car then?" Alicia proposed desperately, "I can drive back and maybe catch a train in Denver or somewhere. What have you got?"

"How about a compact?" Mildred proposed.

"If you've got it, sure, let me see it," Alicia told her.

"All right, here's the compact," Mildred held up a compact mirror. "Forget it, just forget it!" Alicia groaned, "I'll go find someone who can genuinely help me!"

"Your plane ticket'll expire if you fail to get on the plane a half hour before it eventually does take off," Mildred called after her. Alicia didn't pay attention. Her mind was racing with terrible thoughts. She knew the rest of the family had been so looking forward to seeing her again, and after months in business meeting after business meeting with no permanent job offer, she felt the same. She had felt reluctant to go out west at first, as had Alan, but they had agreed it was for the best to keep providing food for the children. Looking back now, she considered it a terrible decision; nothing had really been gained from it, and she missed everyone terribly. Now if only the fates would cooperate and give her a smooth ride back home.

"Psssssst," came a hissing voice from the bathrooms. Alicia turned to see Lefty standing there, gesturing for her to join him. Reluctantly she followed him into the ladies' room. "You know, you can't come in here," she told him once they were inside.

"I always come prepared," Lefty put a blond wig on his head. "Now, I see you've been having some trouble with Cross-American," he whispered, "Would you like to buy…" he stopped for a moment as another woman entered the bathroom, then started speaking again in a feminine falsetto, "…want to buy a plane ticket?"

"You've got one?" she was amazed.

"I've got it right here," Lefty opened his trench coat. Alicia frowned. "There's nothing in there, buster," she told him sternly.

"It's an invisible plane ticket," Lefty said. After the other woman had walked out of the bathroom, he returned to his normal voice. "For Christmas I'm offering a half off discount sale; it's yours for an invisible five dollars."

"Five dollars? And you call yourself an astute businessman?" Alicia was appalled, "Forget it, there's better offers in this airport that that!"

"OK, how about for an invisible quarter?" Lefty proposed. Alicia pulled his hat down over his eyes in disgust. "How about I call the invisible police on you?" she grumbled, "Go find someone else to pick on!"

"Invisible credit card?" Lefty continued trying to make a sale as she walked away, "Guaranteed zero percent invisible credit for six months. I except all non-existent brand names."

Again Alicia paid no attention. She trudged over to the Cross-American concourse and slumped down in a seat next to numerous other stranded travelers. Out the window, she could clearly make out airline crews walking away from their planes in anticipation of the eastern shutdown. The entire wing of the airport was quickly becoming a ghost town outside.

"_Well, at least it can't get worse than this,"_ she thought to herself, "_I hope Alan and the kids aren't stranded themselves because of this_."

* * *

"It's a night of laughter and excitement tonight on ABC, the Antediluvian Broadcasting Company," the announcer on the television announced over a shot of a pterodactyl airplane taking off, "First, on the movie of the week, just when they thought their travel problems were all over with…"

"We've left Kevin cave alone!" shrieked an ancient dinosaur on respiratory aid aboard the plane, "He's only seventy-three!" This was followed by a close-up of an equally old dinosaur with a hunched back and white beard slapping his hands to the side of his head and screaming. "And this time," the announcer continued, "It's really personal."

"You know, I never got why they decided to keep this going after part 5," Robbie remarked to everyone else gathered around the television, "There's really no reason to have made any more except to make the executives rich."

"Meanwhile, we're still going strong after six films and counting," Gonzo said with pride, "I think." On screen, two more even older dinosaurs in electric wheelchairs inched toward the stairs. "This time you're really dead meat, kid!" one of them hissed.

"I don't think so," "Kevin" called from the top of the stairs. He pressed a button on the railing, which set off land mines all throughout the lower level and blew the intruders sky high. "Yes!" he pumped his fist in excitement…only to go into a coughing fit and have to reach for a breathing mask. "It's Cave Alone 9: Cancun Holiday," the announcer said, "Then at nine, gather the kids for the Ask Mr. Lizard Holiday Special."

"Oh I've just been waiting all December to see this one!" Fozzie was excited to see the promo, in which Mr. Lizard had his latest "Timmy" standing before a Christmas tree with at least a million lights on it. "Hey Mr. Lizard, how much electricity is this tree generating?" the eager young dinosaur asked.

"You'll probably find out by sticking that metal rod you're holding into the outlet, Timmy," Mr. Lizard gestured to the outlet in the wall, which had at least twenty plugs inserted into it, "Just let me get behind these boxes here."

He ducked to safety. Timmy shoved the rod into the outlet—and within seconds was violently electrocuted as the whole wall short-circuited and exploded. Once the smoke had cleared, Mr. Lizard glanced at the wreckage around him, and then turned to the camera and announced, "We're going to need another Timmy!"

"And at ten, Edward R. Hero takes a closer look at corporate Pangaea and its blindsiding of the public come the holidays on 20,000,000/20,000,000," the announcer went on, "The fun starts here tonight at seven, only on ABC."

"It's easy to see why they're back up in the ratings again," Earl remarked, switching the channel to DNN, "It's really exciting television again, am I right, Roy?"

He turned to his friend, who was sound asleep on the couch and snoring loudly. "Oh well," Earl shrugged, "I guess a nice warm fire puts him to sleep. It's all part of being cold-blooded."

"Warm fire, Dad?" Charlene called from the fireplace, where, even though she was still wearing every one of her coats, she was still visibly shivering, "I'm still freezing my tail off in this place! Somebody crank the heat up in here!"

"We can't crank it up further or we'll burn half the wall down," Scooter told her, "Think you've got enough coats on?"

"I knew I should have sneaked onto the plane to Hawaii!" Charlene grumbled under her breath, "At least I could have found a cave with those Snupple-Up-whatever-they're-called and stayed warm!"

There was a loud strangled cry from the kitchen. Sam came running up, with the Baby hanging from his neck, attempting to strangle him with a yanked-off phone cord. "Mr. Sinclair, you have clearly done a pathetic job raising this child!" the eagle gasped between breaths, "He is malicious and thoroughly un-American!"

"Gotta love me!" the Baby chuckled, releasing the phone cord. "Gimme remote, Daddy, time for Smoo Show!" he pleaded Earl.

"There will be no watching the Smoo Show," Sam scolded the child, "The Smoo Show is immoral and a prime example of the degrading of values on television."

"You're a weirdo," the Baby told him. Sam looked like he was ready to scream. "Mrs. Sinclair, please, take this child back, I can stand him no longer!" he pleaded Fran as she bustled by.

"I'm busy," Fran told him, "And you're doing quite well with him so far. Why don't you take him for a skate on the pond?"

"You heard her, feather boy, gimme skates!" the Baby told Sam, who let out a low moan before trudging toward the door. "Earl, don't just sit there all night." Fran scolded her husband, "All of us need to pitch in to help here."

"I'm doing me part, Fran," Earl said in self-defense, "I'm making sure the couch here stays warm for anyone who wants to sit here later tonight."

"Yeah, that is the only thing someone with so much fat in your brain can do effectively, fat boy," Grandma Ethyl wisecracked as she zipped by in her wheelchair. Earl shot his mother-in-law an offended look. "All right, if you want me to do more, I could push down another tree in the woods back there for the front yard, make everyone so happy," he sighed in resignation.

"Do we really need to sacrifice even more trees, Dad?" Robbie asked him with concern, "I mean, just looking around on the way here, I can't even begin to guess how many trees were lost this month to be decorated in each house. If we keep knocking them down at this rate, soon we won't have any more trees left at all."

"The things they teach kids in schools these days," Earl whispered loudly to Kermit next to him on the sofa, "When I was his age there wasn't this huge backlash against tree pushing."

Before Kermit could answer, there was another knock on the door, followed by two more thumps. "Careful of the icy patch!" came another round of calls. "Now who could that be?" Clifford shrugged up on the band platform, where he and the Electric Mayhem were now taking a break, "Just about everyone I know's already here."

"Not everybody I know," Kermit strolled over to the door and opened it wide. "Jen, Kira, come on in," he told the Gelflings outside, "Where's everyone else that was coming with you?"

"They had to scratch," Jen told him, stretching his back from the fall, "The storm hit the Labyrinth before they could meet up with us."

"Now tell me how that's remotely possible," Rizzo remarked, taking the Gelflings' coats, "How can this storm hit there at the same time as here?"

"You're guess is as good as mine," Kira shrugged, "Have you got a place for us to put our Land striders for the night? We can't just leave them out in the storm."

"We've got just the place in fact, Kira; hey Thog," Kermit called as loud as he could toward the large blue monster at the edge of the parking lot, "Come put these Land striders in the barn when you've got the chance."

"I'd be honored to," Thog bounded over to the Land striders and waved for them to follow him toward the barn. The snow outside was almost up to the bottom of the farmhouse's door, and the skies above were still looking formidable. Kermit shrugged as he kicked some of the snow away. Fozzie was right; at least they were all going to be having a nice quiet evening all together. The only other person who would have made it all the more perfect was…

"Kermit, hey Kermit," Fozzie leaned in over the frog's shoulder, "Don't you think you're dragging the story along a little too much?"

"Dragging the story just by standing here and watching that old Hudson Hornet coming up the road," Kermit pointed at a black dot entering the parking lot and being directed into place by Doglion in Thog's absence.

"A hornet, aaaahhhhhh!" Fozzie hit the deck, "Go find a helmet for me! Preferably one under water!"

"Not that hornet, Fozzie, the Hudson Hornet," Kermit groaned, "As a licensed employee of the Walt Disney Company, you had the chance to go see Cars any time you wanted. Weren't you in the theater with us?"

"You mean I had a license for Cars?" Fozzie asked, laughing and wiggling his ears once he'd realized he made an inadvertent joke. "So, what I was saying, Kermit," he went on, "I think the script's starting to sag a little bit." He held up a green cardboard script entitled ANOTHER VERY MERRY MUPPET FAMILY CHRISTMAS STORY: FINAL SHOOTING SCRIPT BY BOB WRIGHT. "I mean really, Kermit," the bear went on, "for the last few chapters of this we've stumbled from one character to the next with nothing funny going on. It's time they should give me center stage; I'll 'em dead with my great holiday jokes."

"Well, that would define how the audience would think something was funny, to be honest, Fozzie," Kermit told him, "Uh, looks like this is last people I invited coming in right now. Fozzie, say hi to Yorick, Harry the Hipster, Mushmellon, Moldy Hay, and all the other members of Jim's first troupe when I first joined him fresh out of the swamp. That's right, you all go inside here and just be careful of the…."

The frog's old performing troupe all became the latest victims of the icy patch. Kermit shook his head in dismay. "Never mind," he mumbled, helping Moldy Hay to his feet, "Dinner's almost done in the ballroom."

"Tell me you cooked up some chicken," Yorick chattered his teeth eagerly, "I love roast chicken."

"Noop," the Chef stuck his head out a nearby door, "Wir didn't mentone any chickenen dinner. Oonlesss…."

His gaze immediately fell on Camilla nearby. "Oh no you don't!" Gonzo shouted, jumping between the Chef and the chicken, "And you're not to harm any other chickens here tonight either! That's my terms!"

"Drat!" Yorick grumbled, "Oh well, as long as there's shrimp…"

"Shrimpen?" the Chef mused. It was at that moment that Pepe strolled into the living room. "Has anyone seen my snowflake sweater?" he called out to anyone who cared to listen, "I thought I left it in the front…what? Don't look at me like that, OK!?"

For the Chef was now looking at the prawn strangely. "Cummen to papparn," he announced, drawing a meat cleaver and running toward Pepe. "Help, police, lawyer!" Pepe shrieked as he ran for his life. Kermit shook his head. "Well anyway," he told the new arrivals, "In the meantime you'll find some hot chocolate on the table here in the den."

"No there isn't, there's nothing here but empty cups!" Icky Gunk protested, "Looks like some dinosaur took it; I can make out her claw marks right here."

"Say no more," Kermit trudged wearily into the living room. "Charlene, those hot chocolates were for all of us!" he upbraided the Sinclair's daughter, who was downing several cups of the drink as he spoke.

"You should know it isn't easy to stay warm when you're cold-blooded!" Charlene protested, leaning her back almost right up against the fireplace, "I need as much of these hot chocolates every chance I get! Tell Mom and the others in the kitchen we need more."

"We can't; we cooked up all the excess food for dinner and snacks," Kermit informed her, "If you really want it that bad, I could try to arrange a trip into town for some more, but only if the snow holds off."

"And while you're there, arrange an overnight flight to Jamaica for one," Charlene told him, "Because as I may have said, I can't stand any more of this freezing cold weather!"

"That and how many other things?" Robbie smirked behind his sister, ignorant of the fact he too was dressed in at least three coats inside the house.

"Hey don't you butt into this conversation, Rob!" Charlene threatened him. She brushed by him, wrapped her five fur coats tightly around herself, all the while muttering, "Maybe if I stood by the furnace down in the basement…" Kermit shook his head. "I hope she's not going to ruin all the holiday cheer by complaining about the cold," he confided in Robbie.

"Fat chance, she was up in arms the moment we left town and everything got abruptly colder," Robbie told him, "I thought it would be great to observe a colder Christmas for a change, though. Spike's right to a point, I'll tell you; snow is intrinsically beautiful. Now if we dinosaurs could just get past the fact that, like Charlene pointed out, we're all cold-blooded, we could try and have a cold-weather Christmas one of these years—as long as it doesn't throw the ecosystem out of balance."

"If you guys don't throw yourself down the extinction hole, you'd make a great elder some day, Robbie," Kermit commended him, "Come on, I think dinner's almost ready."

"But Kermit!" Fozzie ran frantically after the frog, "We haven't discussed changing a couple of my scenes yet!"

* * *

"And then we turned left," Larry turned the truck to the right—backwards. They had driven backwards since they'd left the Bitterman Tower parking garage, to the detriment of the few drivers still on the road, in an effect to retrace their steps and recover the Baseball Diamond. "And then we swerved to avoid the ditch," he did just that, "And then I chewed Weasel out for saying I drove like his stepmother," he made obtuse shouts at the Weasel, "And then I glanced out the rearview mirror and realized…we're lost."

"We didn't say that the first time over, Larry," the Snake told him.

"No, I mean, just now, we're lost," Larry said glumly.

"Maybe we could try Hare Krishna?" the Lizard unexpectedly suggested. Growling, Chuck kicked his associate in the shin. "Stay out of this!" the bear snarled, "OK, where should we have turned?"

"How am I supposed to know?" Larry yelled at him in frustration, "Every single sign out here's covered in a foot of snow!"

"All right, let's not panic," the Weasel held up his hand, "Maybe if we go forward a little bit we'll be able to go back again."

"But if we go back, then we won't be able to go forward," Bo told him.

"On the other hand," the Weasel countered, "Going back to go back means we can go forward—unless we have to go back to go forward, and then backing back will mean forward progress…."

"SHUT UUUUUUPPPPPPPP!" Larry screamed in his face, "You've got me completely confused!" He took several deep breaths to calm himself down, then said, "OK, we'll go up to those crossroads up there and go left."

"Right," Bo nodded.

"No, I said left!" Larry couldn't take much more of this.

"I know, right," Bo told him.

"LEFT!"

"Right."

Larry let out an aggravated growl and accelerated forward. He spun the truck sharply to the left…and found it toppling hard into a ditch. "Well, it looks like not going right was wrong," the Pop-Eyed Catfish remarked.

"Let's face it, we'll never get that diamond back!" the Snake lamented, lifting its tail to its face.

"We're not dead yet," Larry dialed his cell phone, "There's nothing that says we can't call a tow truck."

"But I don't want any toes!" the Lizard protested, immediately regretting this as everyone started whaling away at him.

* * *

"Well, I'll tell you that was one of the best meals I've had in a long time," Alan told Kermit as they walked out the farmhouse's back door toward the barn. The storm had completely subsided for a moment, and the sun could be made out setting in the west through some breaks in the clouds.

"And again, sorry that Cookie Monster got carried away and ate all your appetizers," Kermit apologized for the third time, "I guess he hasn't eaten all day; that's really the only times he goes nuts at the table that badly. Anyway, I'm glad you liked dinner. You really did a great job putting it together for all of us."

"I aim to please," the man said, stumbling briefly in a hole covered up by the snow. "Hmm, could this be another Fraggle hole?" he glanced down at it.

"Uh, no, doesn't look like this one is," Kermit shook his head after giving the hole a good looking over, "But you never know where a Fraggle hole will pop up. In fact, it was during Christmas one year that I first stumbled onto one," he told the man, "It was my first Christmas alone in the swamp after the rest of my family moved on to other ponds and lakes in the area. I was just swimming around listlessly, wishing I could spend the holidays with someone, and then I noticed a strange hole in the side of an old oak in the middle of the swamp that hadn't been there before. I got curious and went inside it, and lo and behold, ran smack into Gobo's Uncle Matt, back when he was Gobo's age. He got panicked at first and nearly caused a cave-in, but when I made it clear I meant him no harm and asked if I'd be willing to spend the holidays with him, he eagerly had me come further into the Rock with him to celebrate the Festival of the Bells with him."

"And how did that go?"

"It was rather enlightening, seeing another culture celebrate the season, and be just as joyful about it-well, except for Matt's Uncle Gobo when Matt kept accidentally belting him in the head with his own bell during the ceremony. But certainly it was good to be in the company of others for Christmas, and when I finally went back to the swamp, I wanted to repay the Fraggles in some way for their hospitality. Flash forward several years to when Jim was looking for a show that might bring some peace to the world. I remembered that experience, pitched him the idea that maybe the Fraggles could be the key to the concept, and went about looking for another Fraggle hole. As fate had it, I found it inside Mr. Crystal's workshop right after he and Sprocket moved in when I visited him about an electric fly catcher, went in, got their permission to be on the show-although they clearly had no idea what TV was-and arranged for hidden video cameras to be set up in the Rock to cover everyday life there. And clearly it worked out for the better in the long run. And all because a Christmas wish came true."

A nostalgic look grew over the frog's face. "I remember Christmas dinner for years, Jim would always make me have more than I wanted. He said the season was the one time we could take pleasure in eating what we want-after we'd taken care to feed those who need it first, of course. Boy were those the days. I remember this one Christmas morning after they'd all opened their presents," he went on, "Cheryl put on this princess outfit she'd gotten and got me to play the King of Eight with her. She did each one of the princesses while I handled the King. She didn't tell me that she and Lisa were conspiring to hit me with the giant 8 marker instead of Brian, who was playing the messenger. Once I regained consciousness, I made a whole long speech about how I didn't like things going off script. I was pretty upset at the time, but I can laugh about it now. Those were the moments, when his kids were all young, that you wish could last forever."

"Yeah, you always do like to hang on to the innocent times," Alan shook his head, missing his own childhood dearly, "That's why I feel guilty that Zachary and Christine can't have enough fun with me out of work. I try and do what I can with them, but I keep feeling it's not enough, that they'll never be happy under my watch."

Giddy laughter came from inside the barn. "Well, I've found there's always something that'll make a child happy, and it can happen when we least expect it," Kermit said, opening the doors. The barn was filled already with numerous sheep, chickens, pigs, and other animals. The stalls on the left side of the building had been hastily converted into makeshift rooms for the large monsters who had been, Alan had learned from Emily, unable to get rooms of their own do to the small size of the rooms Biff and Sully had built. Indeed, at this moment Sweetums was in one of them, reading the newspaper. And in the one on the far right, the Reiser children were resting on the back on a laying-down Snuffleupagus, listening to Fozzie telling some of his jokes. "So here's another one I'm going to open with the next time we go on the air," the bear said, leaning against a pile of hay bales, "Why was the lime afraid of the letter S? Because he didn't want to get s-limed! Wokka wokka wokka, aren't I funny!?"

"You still are!" Christine was breaking completely up with laughter, although apart from her brother, few others in the barn were. "I think you still need a little practice, Fozzie," Kermit told him.

"Oh," Fozzie quickly suppressed a disappointed look, "Well, I was just telling the kids how I would come back here when I was their age and practice being a top-flight comedian, so that one day I'd been the best one in the world."

"And you've still got a long way to go, bud," T.R. Rooster chuckled from the rafters. Fozzie gave the rooster an insulted look.

"OK, I've got a couple of announcements to make, guys," Kermit announced around the barn, "First off, I checked the kitchen, and we are officially out of food, so Buster, Leroy," he told the horse and donkey lying in the hay nearby, "Once we finish the first couple of carols, we'll need you guys to take us into town."

"I could take you," Snuffleupagus raised his snuffle.

"Well, I know you could, Snuffleupagus, but I think most people would tend to want to call the army and demand some shock and awe if they saw you walking up the street, even in a snowstorm," Kermit informed him, "And second, since the weather's going to be clear for a little while, we're going to have a hockey match out on the river, so if any of you wants to join in, Bob's taking names in the den for the next ten minutes or so."

He started to walk out. Alan helped his children up off Snuffleupagus. "That sounds like fun, want to do it?" he asked them.

"Not really," Zachary shook his head.

"And sit around watching everyone else have fun?" his father had to ask him, "I'll be playing with you."

"He's got a point there, Zachary," Snuffleupagus hauled himself to his feet, "It would be a shame to let life completely pass you by. Go on out and have some fun. Trust me, it'll be worth it."


	8. Hockey Hijinks

"And we're coming to you live here on Bear River for the First Annual Christmas Eve hockey game," the announcer in the loud checkered tuxedo said over his microphone to a non-existent over-the-air audience, "I'm Lewis Kazagger with Luis Rodriguez on color commentary, and right now we've got an exciting match up here, right Luis?"

"You've got that right Lewis," Luis agreed, "So far after two periods we're still scoreless, and time's now running out for anyone who wants to win. But of course, winning isn't everything, as it's the thrill of playing along that makes…"

"Hold that thought, Luis, right now we've got the blue team on a fast break into the red team's neutral zone;" Lewis cut him off, "And Herry's got a clear shot on goal now and…whoops, he's upended from behind by Boppity, that'll be another face-off."

A low howl came from the multitude of viewers watching the game around the river—including the myriad of forest animals that had gathered along the fringes to watch—at this latest foul. Kermit, in fact, felt the need to storm down to the red team's bench. "What do you guys think you're doing?" he demanded at them, "We are not playing this game to win. You're all acting like monsters making fouls like that."

"Right on, frog," Gloat and his teammates on the bench, all of them monsters, chuckled. Kermit shook his head. "I knew we should have drawn these teams up differently," he said to himself as he trudged back to his seat.

On the ice, Gorgon Heap took a pass from Boppity and skated full steam into the blue team's zone—only to be promptly intercepted by Emmett. The otter slalomed around red team defenders toward the neutral zone. "Catch Mr. Sinclair!" he shouted, passing the puck high in the air at Earl, who whacked it toward the red team's goal with his tail. Unfortunately it sailed right into Mean Mama's glove. Laughing, the monster tossed it back up the ice to Frazzle, who only got to the center line before having to slide to a stop. For Pepe was running across the middle of the river screaming at the top of his lungs, the Swedish Chef still right behind him with the meat cleaver. Everyone on the ice stopped and observed this strange event unfold. "Well, this is strange, Luis, it appears we've all but forgotten about the game here," Kazagger told his associate.

"Well it's not everyday you would see a shrimp chased by a chef across a river," Luis rationalized, "Although on Sesame Street I suppose the probability would have…"

"I am NOT a shrimp, OK?" Pepe screamed back at them, "For the last time, I'm a king prawn, OK?"

"Back to the game, folks!" Kazagger called over the air to the players, who immediately went back to work at the game. "And with just two minutes to go, we're going to need something drastic to break a scoreless tie," he went on.

Down on the ice, Alan could agree with that sentiment. Almost fifty minutes of hard play was clearly wearing everyone down, himself included, and the fact the red team kept cheating was making the game less enjoyable. But for him, being able to play like this again brought back many good memories from when he was younger. And best yet, he could tell Zachary, who had played some hockey with his friends before they'd moved away, was starting to enjoy himself for once, even though he'd been loathe to admit it out loud during team huddles.

The puck came sliding his way unexpectedly. He pulled it in and jerked it aside so that Behemoth, who was lunging toward him, missed his intended check. "Zack, catch," he called out, shooting the puck back to his son. Zachary caught it and fired it across the ice to Masterson the rat—who was leveled flat by the puck. "Oops," the boy gulped, skating over and helping the rat up, "Guess I should have sent it through the air first in your case."

"No problem," Masterson took deep, calming breaths to keep from hyperventilating, "I suppose it would have been worse if it came down on top of me."

"Back on defense, quick!" came frantic calls from the blue team's cheering section as three monsters on the red team were now bearing down right on the blue's goal. Fortunately for their case, the whistle blew just as Beautiful Day was winding up to take a shot. "That's icing on the red team," announced Gordon, who had volunteered to officiate.

"ICING?" Beautiful Day roared in his face, "I'll show you icing!" He grabbed some loose ice chunks from the river and tossed them up in Gordon's face. Gordon calmly blew the whistled again. "Five minutes for unsportsmanlike conduct on number seven red." he proclaimed, escorting a frustrated Beautiful Day to the penalty box.

"And so now with just over a minute to play, the blue team has a one man advantage," Kazagger announced to his non-existent listeners, "But can they crack a defense that's allowed only two shots on goal all day? Can they even get a shot off before time runs out? Can they take a…?"

"And in the meantime, the blue team moves up the ice," Luis got back on track with the commentary before Kazagger could completely get carried away, "Sal the monkey takes the puck, leaps into the air over the defender, passes it to Mr. Reiser, he's got a chance, one man to get by…oh, too bad, he just got clotheslined."

"Will you stop that!" Alan yelled at Boppity and Gorgon Heap, who'd unexpectedly come up from behind and wrapped a clothesline around him. They then skated off to each end of the river and attached the line to trees, while Gloat completed the insult by hanging laundry on the line. Alan squirmed to get loose, but he knew it would take some time. Time they no longer had. "And with thirty seconds to go, the blue team's advantage is out of their hands for now," Kazagger was saying, "Grover takes the puck now, breaks through the defense, passes it to Forgetful Jones…who just stands there! What is he doing?"

"Aw shucks!" Forgetful Jones lamented loud enough for everyone around to hear, "I forget what to do with the black thing!"

"SHOOT AT THE NET!" everyone around screamed at him, "AND WATCH OUT!"

The warning came a split second too late, as a steamroller driven by Frazzle flattened Forgetful. "I thought I've seen everything, folks," Kazagger commented as the steamroller moved away, revealing a very long and very flat Forgetful lying on the ice, "But now the red team has made it clear they're bent on flattening their opponents by any means necessary. Wait, wait just a minute folks, the puck's loose with eight seconds to go, it's drifting in Mr. Reiser's direction…"

Alan wasn't completely loose of the clothesline yet, but he could still do what he had in mind. Inching his stick out as far as it would go, he trapped the puck. "Zack!" he yelled out, "All yours!" He fired the puck up the ice as hard as he could. Zachary burst from the pack at full steam and took control. He was wide open as he skated hard towards the red net…

And was abruptly tripped up as a long thin object wrapped around his leg and pulled him down. Gordon's whistle sound again over the river as the clock expired. "That's tripping on the red team!" he demanded, pointing an accusing finger at Big V, whose tongue hung guiltily out, "Free shot on goal for the blue team!"

"And so it all comes down to this," Kazagger announced breathlessly, "Can Zachary Reiser get the puck by the unstoppable Mean Mama and win the title? Can he show that he's got the heart of a champion? Can…?"

"Can you please get a grip, Lewis?" Luis scolded him, "Like Kermit said, it's only an amateur game. We're not playing this for any championship."

Back on the ice, Alan finally wrenched himself loose of the clothesline and ran over to help his son up. "You OK?" he asked him.

"I think so," Zachary shook himself off. Gordon placed the puck on the painted line right in front of him. "Whenever you're ready, go ahead," he told him.

Zachary took a deep breath and stared at the net, where Mean Mama was hunkered down with a determined expression. "I'm not sure…" he started to say softly.

"Hey, if you make it, you make it, and if you don't, you don't,' his father reassured him, "Either way I'm proud of you. You've done great so far in this game."

"Mr. Reiser, I'm afraid you'll have to step back now," Gordon informed him, "We can't have coaching."

"Right," Alan skated away. He watched with his fingers crossed as Zachary took several more deep breaths and skated toward the puck—having the stop briefly as the Chef once again came chasing Pepe across the ice in front of him—then took the puck and took an unexpected immediate shot at the net. Mean Mama dove toward it…

"IT GOES IN! IT GOES IN!" Kazagger shrieked loudly as if he was being attacked by fire ants, "I DON'T BELIEVE WHAT I JUST SAW! THIS IS THE MOST INCREDIBLE, THE MOST ASTOUNDING, THE CRAZIEST FINISH I EVER—DO YOU ALL BELIEVE IN MIRACLES, YES, YES, YES! RESIER DID IT! EVERYTHING IS GOOD IN THE WORLD TONIGHT!"

"Yeah, was there ever any real doubt that it would end like this?" Waldorf remarked from his seat next to the announcers.

"None at all," Statler agreed, "Every single sports story ends with something exactly like this."

"All that's missing is the screen for all this to be on and an excessive admission charge for us to watch it," Waldorf added.

"Will you guys tone down the sarcasm for once," Kermit upbraided them, "The poor kid hasn't had a reason to be happy in a long time. Don't spoil it for him."

The frog skipped down onto the ice, where everyone who had been watching were now hoisting Zachary up into the air for a victory lap around the ice. Kermit pushed his way gently through the crowd toward him. "Good shooting there, Zack," he congratulated him, "Feels good, doesn't it?"

"You bet, Kermit," Zachary was now smiling warmly for once, "I think I'm glad we got stuck here."

A still hyper Kazagger jumped through the excited throngs. "Zachary Reiser, you've just won the big game," he shouted like the world was ending, "Now what are you going to do to cash in on your new-found fame?"

"We're going to Disney World!" Fozzie yelled in delight before Zachary could answer, "When you wish upon a star, makes no…"

"Fozzie, please, no product placements," Kermit told his friend, "This is fan fiction."

"Well it was just a thought," Fozzie shrugged, "Anyway, let's celebrate!"

The victory procession moved triumphantly up the ice. Almost unnoticed by everyone, Alan skated happily along behind it. He was thrilled that his son had done so well. It had been so long since he'd been this happy…

"Aren't we going to congratulate him too?" Christine skated up to him, followed by a thrilled Thog, whom she'd been skating with while the game was in progress.

"Oh, I think we'll let Zachary have some time to enjoy the moment before we do that," her father told her, "After all, he's had us around to tell him how good he does all the time, but how often has he been able to have someone else tell him that lately?"

"Not much," she agreed, "I'm glad for him too."

* * *

"Well, it's really been a good evening so far," Bob remarked about a half hour later back inside the farmhouse. After the thrill of the hockey game, most of the guests were now milling about waiting for promised carol singing to start, "You were right, Big Bird, this is a good change from Christmas in the city."

"Yeah, it's almost perfect," Big Bird said dreamily, "The only thing that would make it better was if Mr. Looper were here to celebrate with us."

"HOOPER!" everyone within earshot corrected him. "He's right, though," Susan agreed, "Mr. Hooper always livened up the holidays. Plus, I doubt I would know anything about Hanukah if I hadn't met him."

"Yes, I knew Harold Hooper very well myself," Doc remarked, lighting the menorah and Advent wreath set up on the coffee table, "We were in the same home room every year until he dropped out of school in tenth grade after his father died. It was sad to see him go, but he had three sisters to support. Anyway, he would take flack from some of the bullies for celebrating Hanukah sometimes, but I always stood by him; after all, without Hanukah in the first place there would have been no Christmas. There were some times Sprocket and I would come into his store during December and get…Sprocket, what are you doing over there?"

The inventor abruptly rose up and stormed over to the table in the corner of the room, where Sprocket was playing poker with numerous other dogs. "Sprocket, you'd better not be using my money there!" he scolded his pet, "I barely have enough to pay the rent, and I still have to pay Mr. Reiser back, as you may know!"

"Calm yourself pal, we're not playing for real money," Elliot Shag told him, "It's just with chips and only chips. Hit me three more chips there, Joe."

Rover Joe reached into a bag of potato chips in the center of the table and extracted three chips, which he handed to Shag. Shag took a bite out of one and went back to his cards. "I've got a straight flush," he announced, placing all his cards down.

"I've got a royal flush," Baskerville laid out his cards as well.

"I've got a toilet flush," came Rowlf's voice from upstairs, followed by the sound of the toilet flushing. "Now that was a bit uncalled for," Doc shook his head, "After all, this is supposed to be a family story."

"I couldn't help it," Rowlf came down the stairs, "It was too good a joke to pass up. And no offense, but I don't really think you're that good at breaking the fourth wall yet."

"Well thanks a lot pal," Doc snorted. He leaned close to Sprocket and whispered, "Show business types; thirty years in the business and they think they know everything."

Rowlf walked up on stage and took his place at his piano, on top of which Hoots was warming up his saxophone. "I guess we're probably ready to start now," he told Guy Smiley, who was standing next to it, give us the intro."

"Right," Smiley strolled out to the center of the stage. "Good evening one and all and welcome to tonight's Christmas song jamboree!" he announced in a hyper, excited voice, "And now, for our first song tonight, please follow the lead of our guest pianist, my dear brother, the very talent Don Music!"

Lethargic applause greeted Don Music as he replaced Rowlf at the piano for the moment. He tapped out a few opening notes. "Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way," he sang, "Oh what fun it is to ride in a…in a…in a….oh it's no use, I'll never get this song right, never, never, never, never, never!"

He slammed his head hard off the keyboard repeatedly in frustration. "Someone call a doctor!" Waldorf called out.

"Yep, that has to hurt," Statler said.

"Not for him, for me," Waldorf corrected him, "I'm already feeling sick just watching this."

"All right, maybe this wasn't the best of opening acts," Smiley had to concede as Rowlf tenderly led a still distraught Music off the stage, "Anyway, next on our program, Elmo has agreed to sing one of his favorite holiday songs; Elmo?"

"Thanks Guy," Elmo walked up to the microphone, "Play it again, Rowlf."

Rowlf started the song. "Kickity-kick, ee-aw, ee-aw, it's Dominic the Donkey," Elmo sang with great gusto despite loud groans at his choice of song, "Kickity-kick, ee-aw, ee-aw…"

"Ah, shut up!" without warning, Ploobis staggered over and slugged Elmo hard off the stage, garnering more than a few claps all around the room. Kermit slid over to Smiley. "Uh, I don't think the scheduled acts are working, Guy," he told the host what Smiley probably already could guess, "Maybe you should do a solo piece; I don't think anyone hates you."

"Excuse me Kermit," Sam, temporarily free of the Baby, strode up, "I might have the answer to this nonsense going on around us."

"Be my guest," Kermit gestured the eagle up on stage. "Ladies and gentlemen," Sam addressed everyone, "As an entertaining counterbalance to the weirdness you've just been witnessing, I present for your listening pleasure the very talented Wayne and Wanda with an old Christmas favorite that's guaranteed to delight young and old."

More groans greeted Wayne and Wanda as they took their turn at the microphone. "O Christmas tree," Wayne started to croon, "O Christmas tree, of all the trees most…"

He got no further, for it was at this moment that the tree unexpectedly fell over on top of him. Sam put a wing over his face and shook his head. "Why do they keep doing this to me?" he asked no one in particular.

"Um, anyone else wants to sing, anyone, anything?" a nervous Smiley asked, "Any acts at all?"

"How about I do my boomerang fish act?" Lew Zealand stepped forward, fish in hand.

"NO!" just about everyone in the room shouted at him.

"Oh Kermit," Piggy stepped forward, a hopeful look on her face, "How about giving _moi_ a chance to sing?"

"Well, no offense Piggy, but I don't think we have a song on the bill that'll really fit your style," Kermit admitted, "And we don't really have room for you in…"

"Kermit?"

"Yes Piggy?"

"MAKE ROOM!" she pushed her snout right into his face and raised a fist. Meekly, Kermit gestured for Smiley to give him the mike. "Here now the fabulous Miss Piggy to sing whatever she wants," he said in a defeated voice. Piggy stepped grandly onto stage and struck an almost ludicrous diva pose. She pointed a finger at Rowlf to start the song. "IIIIIII don't want a lot for Christmas," she started to sing, "There is just one thing I need. I don't care about the presents underneath the Christmas tree. I just want you for my own, more than you could ever know. Make my wish come true. All I want for Christmas isssssss…yoooouuuuuuuuu."

Dr. Teeth started banging away on his keyboard like a man possessed. Every other musician on stage took the same cue and started playing away as if their lives depended on it, which in this case it just may have. "I don't want a lot for Christmas, there is just one thing I need. I don't care about the presents underneath the Christmas tree," Piggy sang in a far more professional and enthusiastic manner than her predecessors, which had the effect of the audience actually getting into the song, "I don't need to hang my stocking there upon the fireplace. Santa Claus won't you make me happy with a toy on Christmas Day…"

"Something's not right here," Janice said out loud, apparently noticing an accelerated pace in the song. Piggy was in fact singing a little faster than Mariah Carey had, although still at a reasonable enough pace so that the song didn't lose its tempo. "I just want you for my own," she went on, "more than you could ever know. Make my wish come true. All I want for Christmas is you."

"Too fast," Rowlf was noticing the same excessive pacing. Piggy failed to slow up. "I won't ask for much this Christmas, I won't even wish for snow. I'm just going to keep on waiting underneath the mistletoe..."

"You're not waiting for us, ham hog!" Floyd Pepper yelled in distaste, his voice drowned out by the music except for those already on stage, "You're going to break our wills to play!"

"I'll definitely break something, pal! HIIIIIIIIYAAAAAAA!" Piggy spun around and karate-chopped him senseless, leading to a high out-of-tune note as Floyd landed on top of his guitar. "…just want you here tonight, holding on to me so tight," the pig continued, "What more can I do, all I want for Christmas is you."

"Can't we slow down?" Dr. Teeth complained, sweat pouring down his face as he pounded his keyboard hard to keep up with the breakneck pace. Piggy was too caught up in singing the song perfectly to back attention. "All the lights are shining so brightly everywhere," she went on, "and the sound of children's laughter fills the air…"

"And the sound of dog's fingers going numb," Rowlf howled, looking ready to collapse.

"And everyone is singing…" Piggy apparently didn't hear him over the audience's loud clapping in rhythm with the song.

"Santa won't you bring me…" a dazed Floyd Pepper staggered to his feet and leaned toward Piggy.

"HIIIIYAAAAA!" Piggy chopped him down again. "OOOh, I don't want a lot for Christmas, this is all I'm asking for," she took a diving slide the length of the stage and lay on her back to sing the rest of the song, "I just want to see my froggie standing just outside me door…"

"Nice," Kermit flinched and took a large step away from the stage.

"Oh I just want him for my own," Piggy sang with increased gusto as the song reached its climax, "more than he could ever know, make my wish come true…"

"To just end this song!" Zoot was on the verge of collapse.

"All I want for Christmas is YOOOOOUUUUUUUUU!" Piggy squealed out the long last note. And then without warning, she launched herself at Kermit, kissing him madly. "Say you love me Kermie, say you love me!" she squealed. Kermit broke loose and climbed up the tree, which had been set back upright, as fast as he could. "Somebody get protective custody for me!" he cried out. The song finally ended, punctuated by everyone on stage falling to the floor, gasping for air. The audience gave a standing ovation. "Oh thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!" Piggy bowed crazily in all directions, "Oh you love me, you really love me! Let me do another one!"

"NO!" the Electric Mayhem recoiled at the prospect.

"Well, that was quite good, wasn't it Kermit?" Gonzo asked the frog.

"Actually it was," Kermit did agree with this," Piggy does sing well, that much I know. Probably with that bad review she got from that last guy to read this, she felt she had something to prove." Shrugging he looked at Smiley's list as he tentatively climbed back down to the floor. "OK, Bob, you and Scooter are next," he said into the microphone once Piggy had dropped it and left the stage.

"And whatever you do, go nice and slow!" Zoot told Bob as he took the stage and leaned against Rowlf's piano, "We can't go on at that clip all night!"

"Don't worry, I've got a nice slow on I think we'll all enjoy," Bob reassured him. Rowlf started the first few notes of this song. "The garment of life, be it tatter and torn," Bob sang quite professionally, "the cloak of the soldier is withered and worn, but what child is this that was poverty-born, the peace of Christmas Day."

"The branch that bears the bright holly," Scooter joined in with him, "the dove that rests in yonder tree, the light that shines for all to see, the peace of Christmas Day."

"The hope that has slumbered for two thousand years," the gofer took the next verse on his own, "the promised that silenced a thousand fears, a faith that can hobble an ocean of tears, the peace of Christmas Day."

"The branch that bears the bright holly," everyone in the room, familiar with the song, joined this verse of the refrain, "The dove that rests in yonder tree, the light that shines for all to see, the peace of Christmas Day."

"Add all the grief that people may bear," Bob took the final verse as well, "total the strife, the troubles and care, put them in columns and leave them right there, the peace of Christmas Day."

"The branch that bears the bright holly, the dove that rests in yonder tree, the light that shines for all to see, the peace of Christmas Day," everyone finished off the song. Again, there was a standing ovation this time. "Very good Mr. McGrath, very good," Smiley commended Bob as he walked away, "OK who's next? Is that you, Kira? Come right on up."

Kira took hold of the microphone as a low hum of keys came from Dr. Teeth. "If I cannot bring you comfort, then at least I bring you hope," she sang in a voice that seemed to itself embody hope, "There is no gift more precious than the time we have been sold."

"We must fight to keep our spirits," Alice Otter joined in with her, "Count the blessings that are here. Let the bells ring out for Christmas at the closing of the year. Let the bells ring out for Christmas, at the closing…of…the…year."

The entire extended band cranked into the song full blast. Once again everyone in the room was soon rocking back and forth in tune with the song. "If I cannot bring you comfort, than at least I bring you hope," everybody who cared to sing along sang with Kira and Alice the second time around, "At the closing of the year…"

"You know, if this is what they do everywhere in Outer Space, I might just skip the Festival of the Bells and find one of these thing called a church," Gobo told his fellow Fraggles atop the coffee table, "Robin says that's where Silly Creatures go to sing on Christmas."

"Don't Gobo!" Boober warned him, "I've read some of the bear's books while everyone was out on the river; churches are the perfect places for disease to spread! The entire Rock'll end up sick once you get back, probably with something terrible like sufferosis!"

"There is no sufferosis, Boober," Red rolled her eyes, "That was all just in your head, as usual."

"Oh look the song's over," Mokey had noticed the duet coming to an end, to even more loud applause, "Come Wembley, we're up next."

"But Mokey, we haven't rehearsed it yet," Wembley protested as she took his head and took a flying leap from the coffee table to the stage.

"It'll be no worse than some of the songs we've seen so far," Mokey said, retching at the thought of one of the acts in particular, although she apparently decided not to reveal exactly which one. Smiley picked them both up and held them in front of the microphone. "Um, this isn't really a Christmas song," Mokey told the others before them, "But we feel it fits the Christmas spirit. Wembley, you start."

Wembley waited until the Country Trio plucked off a few choice notes. "I had always thought the world was full of mystery," he sang.

"I had seen so many faces that were strange," Mokey added.

"And it sometimes seemed that each one was my enemy," they sang together, "And I thought our fighting ways would never change."

"But I learned to meet my brother and my enemy," Mokey took the line.

"And I learned that we are none of us alone," Wembley followed her this time before the two of them teamed up again for the final two lines of the verse: "For I found a friend who's different and she cares for me, and we found a place to share and be our home."

"We are the children of tomorrow," the other Fraggles joined the two of them on stage, "Each one is different and the same. Help us to live here with our other, our brother, one in heart, one in hope, one in name."

"Come on, you all know the lyrics, together!" Smiley waved at the audience with his free hand. Soon everyone in the room was singing along who did in fact know the lyrics were singing along (although Oscar, looking frustrated at all the happiness now going around, was merely lip-synching badly): "We are the children of tomorrow, each one is different and the same. Help us to live here with our other, our brother, one in heart, one in hope, one in name." It was during the height of the song that Alan and Christine finally came in from the cold (followed by Thog, who was too big to get through the door), having been skating together on the river with other guests who hadn't quite been ready to inside once the hockey game was over. "Well, it looks like we missed out on a little bit of fun," the big blue monster commented.

"I had fun out there, Thog," Christine reassured him, "I like skating with you."

"Ah, you guys all done out there?" Kermit came up to them, still swaying with the music, "I was just about to ask anyone who wanted to come into town with me to pick up more food to get ready after this song. Care to come along?"

"Um, sure, Kermit, as long as the weather holds out," Alan told him.

"It should," the frog said, "Latest reports say the most severe patch of snow won't hit until about ten, so that's plenty of time out and back."

He walked off to inquire others if they wanted to go as well. "Not good for mommy," Christine shook her head, "If it snows like that…"

"Don't give up hope on mommy yet, pumpkin," her father kissed her, squelching for the moment his own deep doubts about his wife's ability to join them, "I'm sure something'll pop up yet that'll get her through. And in the meantime, we get to take a sleigh ride."

He walked over to corner, where he was delighted to see Zachary singing along with several other children. "Care to come with us into town, Zack?" he asked him.

"Thanks Dad, but I think I'm happy here for now," Zachary said, unable to suppress happiness at being with others his own age again, ""I'd like to get to know some of these kids more."

"I have no problem with that," Alan told him, "You just go meet them all. Again, great work out there on the ice. I'm quite proud of you."

"And I'm glad you could be here with me, Dad," Zachary hugged him.

"All right, enough sap!" Oscar cut in before things could get too warm, "This chapter's gone on long enough; start the next one all ready! We're dragging things out too far with this one!"


	9. Mr Frog Goes to Town

The Dumpee Garage tow truck slid to a stop outside its headquarters with the Dry Bandits' truck hooked up to the back. George hopped out of the cab and trudged around to the back. "That'll be five bucks," he told them.

"For the whole thing?" Bo was amazed, "How do you stay in business by being that cheap?"

"As I told some customers I had earlier today, it's my pre-Boxing Day discount," George informed them, "Bruno, unhook them while I get the Dumpee Catalog for their perusal."

There was a click as Bruno unhooked the vehicle from the tow truck. It was also at that moment that Larry's mind clicked as well. "Wait just a second," he mused, looking around at the garage and service station, "We were in here just this morning. There were those weirdoes in the bus that were here when we were; they were still here when we left."

"And?" Bo gave him a quizzical look.

"And," Larry rolled his eyes in disgust at his colleague's thickness, "Somehow the diamond must have ended up with them! Can't you even think on your own for once? Don't answer that, please," he added when he noticed Bo was going to, "Just be quiet and let me try to at least take a broad guess where the weirdoes might be now."

"No need," Chuck slid forward, a triumphant and cold smile on his face, "I know exactly where they are. They're at my aunt's. I know the way."

"You sure?" Larry frowned.

"Chuck ain't never wrong about nothing," the Weasel informed his human associate, "Step on it; they may have found the diamond by now."

"But it's only a five dollar charge for towing; we can pay that!" Bo protested. Everyone ignored him as Larry turned the key in the ignition and threw the truck into reverse. He zoomedout of the parking lot just as George came trudging back out with the catalog. He observed his customers peel off into the growing night without paying. "You know something Bruno," he confided in his associate, "I've just realized that if we waited until after our customers paid before unhooking them, we might actually have some who don't leave without paying."

* * *

"Now keep in mind, Big Bird, that the rules we have in the city apply for this trip," Gordon informed the large canary inside the farmhouse's doorway, "Stay close to everyone else and don't talk to strangers."

"Don't worry about a thing, Gordon, I still know the rules by heart," Big Bird told him. He took a few steps forward off the porch and was immediately hit by a snow slide from the overhang. Off to the side, Oscar snickered, not bothering to hide the broom handle he was holding. "I guess now you're a real snowbird, huh?" he told the canary.

"OSCAR!" nearly a dozen people glared out the door at him. "What?" Oscar asked, "If you turkeys can have fun, so can I. Geez, can't anyone handle a joke?"

He slammed the lid of his can back down and trudged off toward the back of the farmhouse. Big Bird shook the snow out of his feathers and walked over to the sleigh already hitched up in front of the house. "So, Christine, you ever been on a sleigh ride before?" he asked his new friend as he took his seat in the back of the sleigh.

"No," Christine told him, "How about you?"

"Nope, it's my first time too," Big Bird said, "I just wonder why we're using a one horse and one donkey open sleigh. It just doesn't seem right."

He looked ahead at Buster and Leroy, who were hitched up too the sleigh and fitted with strings of bells. "Because Fred called in sick earlier," Leroy informed him, "and I can pull these things as good as any horse."

"Ah, you still look like an ass to me," a clearly drunk Scred staggered over toward the donkey. Leroy frowned heavily at the Gorch resident. "Don't you have something better to do?" he asked him harshly. Scred stumbled away into the nearest snowdrifts, mumbling, "On Moishe, on Herschel, on Shlomo, it's time for Hanukah Harry…" Gonzo, who was passing by, shook his head as he slid into the sleigh's front seat. "I swear that guy's ruining the family appeal of this story," he muttered.

"Well, at least we'll be away from him for a little while, eh?" Gobo piped up from his perch on the back of the sleigh, "I hope these Outer Space stores, as you call them, have more radish bars; the ones we had for dinner were terrific."

"I preferred the vegetables personally," Robbie, now wearing an additional two winter coats, slid into place next to Big Bird, "Many dinosaurs don't like them still, but I've found…"

"Hey look at that," Big Bird pointed in amazement at the sight of Yoda and Cantus levitating in mid-air toward the sleigh. The two of them were engaged in a holographic chess match as they floated into place right behind Gobo. One of Cantus's pieces stomped across the board and flattened what was apparently Yoda's main piece. "Incredible," the Jedi master mused, "Truly great at this you are for never having before it played."

"It takes the skills of knowing everything and knowing nothing," Cantus proclaimed, "How about another one?"

"Fine with me that is," Yoda pressed a button that reset all the pieces in their original positions on the board. Alan, who walked by with a list-holding Fozzie, stared in wonder at the chessboard. "Now how do you manage to play something like that?" he asked the two mentors.

"Use your mind well you must," Yoda informed him, "Anticipate what your opponent might do. Similar to what is done in this galaxy, heard have I."

"Yeah, it's not too much different, really," Alan told him. He turned to Fozzie, who was getting into place in the driver's seat. "Say Fozzie, are you sure we have enough money to cover all the food on that list? We are pretty broke, I told you earlier, so I can't really help you."

"No problem at all, I'm charging everything to my Bearican Express card," Fozzie held up his credit card, "Don't leave the cave without it."

"Fozzie, what did I just say about product placement?" Kermit protested as he approached the sleigh, Robin in his arms.

"You didn't say anything about fictional product placement," Fozzie pointed out.

"Well it goes for all product placements!" the frog told him, slipped past Gonzo.

"Oh Kermit, please let me come too," Piggy came running up, bobbing up and down wildly, "Please, please, please, please, please, please, please…."

"Do I have a choice?" Kermit asked her.

"No."

"Then it's fine by me," he shrugged. Piggy pushed her way passed Gonzo. "Move it or lose your foot, weirdo!" she snapped at him when he initially resisted. She cuddled up against Kermit. "What an evening for a sleigh ride between the two of us," she cooed happily, "There's romance in the air, a…"

"Everyone here who's going?" Fozzie called out loud before things could get too intimate between his passengers. No one else stepped forward. "OK boys, forward ho!" he called to Buster and Leroy, giving the reins a slight tug to get them started.

"And don't forget the honey popsicles," his mother called after him.

"I won't, Ma," Fozzie gave her a paw's up as he turned the corner towards the highway. "I hope we have enough room here for all the food," he remarked.

"Have it we should," Yoda said, directing a spider-like holograph across the board. Although the sleigh was in full motion, he was still able to mentally keep Cantus and himself floating directing behind it while still working the chess game. Alan leaned over the back of the sled and observed their game. "You play this a lot where you come from?" he asked Yoda.

"A way to keep one's self occupied in exile it is," Yoda explained. His face fell. "Too little to celebrate in the galaxy there is now. Only holidays for the Emperor's false achievements there are. A good change coming here to see real joy it is."

"Well, I'm glad you can enjoy yourself," the human said. Yoda studied him closely. "Many things trouble you," he noted, "Many deep things. Explain them you will."

"Um," Alan glanced at Christine, who suddenly had a horrible coughing fit, "I guess I could, but can we talk in private?"

"Any private discussion between us will ultimately be a public one," Cantus blurted out abruptly. Alan stared at the Fraggle in wonder. "Do you always confuse people when you speak, because I didn't understand a word of that just now," he told him.

"They are confused, but they also understand," Cantus apparently knew what he was talking about. He directed a large lumbering board piece to kick a crab-like piece of Yoda's off the board. Alan shook his head. "Well, it looks like I was wrong," he told Christine, "Fraggles are by and large far from pessimistic."

"Now where'd you ever hear that from?" Gobo asked him.

"That's the basic rumor that went around when I was young," the man told him, "We all believe Fraggles were lethargic pessimistic creatures."

Gobo chuckled out loud. "It looks like Boober's more popular than he realizes," he commented. He looked up at the treetops flying by quickly overhead. "Strange," he said out loud, "Uncle Matt always said these things were green."

"That's just in spring and summer," Big Bird corrected him, "Boy I would love to come back here in summer, though. It must look beautiful with all the trees in full bloom. When you come from the city as I do, you learn to like the country more"

"I agree," Robbie nodded, "It's just too bad nature gets plowed up too much these days for business. If we could just set aside one acre of nature land a month, we could help keep enough oxygen in the air to prevent carbon dioxide overload in the atmosphere."

"Well you know what they say, it's not easy being green, right Kermit?" Fozzie nudged his friend. Kermit forced an uncomfortable smile. "He's right though," Robin glanced back at Robbie, "We need to be more active these days to protect the countryside. A couple of years ago they almost plowed up half the swamp for a series of outhouse emporiums; Uncle Kermit had to get a thousand and fifty-five signatures before they backed off. Don't they understand we have homes too?"

"Apparently the Wesayso Corporation doesn't," Robbie sighed, "I've been telling Dad he should quit as an example, but he just won't consider it. We could still make the same money if he were to do something like being, for example, an industrial plumbing investment counselor. Indoor plumbing's still a growing business among dinosaurs, and if he took the…"

There was the blaring of a horn as they merged with the highway and almost ran into a snowplow. "Watch where you're going, bear!" the driver yelled at Fozzie.

"Honk on this, pal!" Piggy shook a fist at him. "Snowplows," she remarked to everyone, "They think they own the road."

* * *

"So it's at Grizzly Farm, huh?" Bitterman said over her cell phone to Larry, "Well, if you can get it without them putting up too much of a fight, please do; I've already had enough with delays."

"Don't worry Miss Bitterman, we should have everything under control within an hour," Larry told her, "I'll call you back when the cat's in bag."

"Whatever," Bitterman hung up on him. She climbed out of her limousine, which was now parked in a diner lot, and trudged with a frustrated expression through several deep snowdrifts to where Hopper was standing under the diner's awning. "They say they've got it under control; tell me why I don't believe them," she said.

"Not to worry miss, here comes my cavalry right now," Hopper pointed across the parking lot. A strange bike-like sleigh wobbled into the lot, being pulled by a quartet of strange brownish creatures that moaned as they were whipped unmercifully by the hunched toad-like creature straddling the sleigh. Behind him came a beaten-up pickup truck. Each slowed to a halt by the limousine. "You called?" asked the toad-like creature, giving his drivers one last gratuitous whip each.

"Mr. Wander McMooch, so nice of you to drop by," Hopper shook the newcomer's hand—or flipper, or whatever it was, "We've got a new assignment for you tonight…ah and my good friend Farmer Sledge, glad you could come too."

"So what's the big scoop, Hopper?" Mordecai Sledge asked as he and his fellow farmer/robbers climbed out of their pickup, axes and blades in hand.

"Well, some people took something that belongs to us now," the restaurateur informed them all, "We know where they are, we just need you gents to help the people we already have staking them out get it back."

"And what's in it for us?" Caleb Stiles asked, his eyebrows raised.

"Exactly one million dollars for each of you," Bitterman withdrew her checkbook, "Plus stakes in our next business venture, which will gross at least that much."

McMooch and the farmers whispered excitedly among themselves. "All right missy, you've got yourself a deal," Sledge shook the businesswoman's hand, "Where do we go?"

"Grizzly Farm, I'm sure you know where that is," she told them.

"Indeed we do; come on boys, let's saddle up!" Sledge waved his cohorts back into the truck. McMooch lingered a little longer. "If this involves real estate, can I have some prime shares?" he asked Bitterman and Hopper, "I've been hoping to get into real estate lately."

"Absolutely," Hopper said firmly, "Half our property rights go to you, my friend."

"Half the property rights?" Bitterman elbowed Hopper as McMooch tore away on his sleigh over the howls of his slaves, "I thought we agreed we'd divide that up after…!"

"Hold that thought, here come the rest of our guinea pigs," Hopper pointed across the lot. A large brownish giant in a grayish winter coat was towing a large enclosed rickshaw of sorts toward them. "Presenting their royal majesties, the king and queen of the universe!" he announced grandly once he'd stopped, breaking into an improvised trumpet fanfare. The slightly shorter purple giant that emerged from inside the carriage bopped him on the head to make him stop. "So what's this all about?" he asked the two humans, "You said you had information about the whereabouts of the enemies of the Gorg Empire."

"In fact, we just found out this evening, your majesty," Bitterman suppressed a loud snicker, "The leaders of your enemies are meeting at Grizzly Farm not far from here. If you attack them now, you can crush them once and for all."

"Wonderful!" Pa rubbed his hands in glee, "After all these years, we can finally bring peace to the Gorg Empire for good. How can I ever thank you for this?"

"Don't," Hopper told him, "Giving you the chance to rub them out is reward enough for us."

"Dearest, sharpen Gorgonzola for me," Pa told his wife in the carriage, "It's going to be used to fell our foes tonight. Junior, pull out and make for this Grizzly Farm.

"Yes sir Daddy Sire," Junior saluted him, "The king and queen are now departing for Grizzly Farm!" he announced out loud, "All loyal subject bow down before them!"

He took off sprinting with the carriage. "Junior, not until I got back in!" Pa yelled, running after his ride. Bitterman and Hopper exchanged glances. "I hope these friends of yours actually work," she told him.

"If numbers don't work, firepower will," Hopper reassured her, "Let's get a coffee; I'm thirsty."

* * *

"Ah, nothing like Christmas in a small town," Fozzie remarked as the sleigh headed up the main street of town, "The lights, the carolers, the guys running around yelling at the top of their lungs."

"Where?" Kermit looked around to see a disheveled main tearing down the road in from of them. "Merry Christmas!" he was screaming to all who cared to listen, "Merry Christmas Bedford Falls! Hello you old Building and…!"

He abruptly ran into a lamppost and was cut off. "Well, at least we're getting some parody into this story," Gonzo remarked.

"This is amazing," Gobo pointed up at the Christmas lights strung everywhere, "Silly Creatures know how to harness Ditsies and use them to make light displays."

"Not Ditsies," Fozzie told him, "Some day we'll have to go in depth with you Fraggles on electricity, right Kermit?"

"Perhaps," Kermit stared absentmindedly at the winter wonderland around them. "I believe in miracles and I can tell you why," he started singing again, "Once a year the street I live on sparkles like the sky."

"All hung with lights for Christmas," Robin joined in with him, "twinkling everywhere, the world turns bright for Christmas, and if that isn't a true blue miracle, I don't know what one is."

"I believe in miracles, I know because I've seen," Gonzo took the next verse, "Once a year, the place I walk is filled with trees of green."

"And pine cones smell of Christmas," Robbie, despite his normal celebration of Refrigerator Day, had caught on quickly, "Floating through the air to jingle bells of Christmas, and if that isn't a true blue miracle, I don't know what one is."

"But the greatest wonder of them all," everyone sang at once, "is not what's happening around you, it's the way you start to be. Yes, the greatest wonder of them all is how your heart is filled with love. You start to light up like a Christmas tree."

"OK, stop here," Fozzie directed Buster and Leroy, who ground to a halt in front of a downtown mall and backed up into a parking space. The bear dropped a quarter in the parking meter. "Hey, these must be those sidewalk creatures Uncle Matt wrote me about," Gobo approached the meter, "Hey, merry Christmas, sidewalk creature!"

"Hey look in here," Christine was at the window of the store. Everyone walked over to join her. "There it was, shining in absolute beauty," a voice said softly from above, "The Red Ryder BB gun, the one thing I wanted more than anything for…"

"Uh, Ralphie, this is the ladies' department," Fozzie said to the sky, "And you're not in this story."

"Sorry," the voice said.

"The store's inside; follow me," Kermit waved the others toward the door. "Feelings feel so wonderful, you have to let them show," he continued singing.

"And maybe that's why everyone begins to get a glow," Fozzie waved at a nuclear power plant operator walking by who happened to be glowing with radiation.

"And with Christmas their hearts fill," Yoda took the next verse, causing some heads to turn at his juxtaposition of the words, "spirit share they can."

"That's the best part of Christmas," everyone finished the song as they reached the door, "And if that isn't a true blue miracle, I don't know what one is."

The mall was still fairly crowded despite the fact it was after dark on Christmas Eve. Few of the customers, though, were bothering to watch the Cirque Du So Lame Mall Tour show currently going on at the center of the atrium, where four penguins were "calling" on cell phones next to three French chickens doing the can-can and two turtles with fake dove wings attached to their shells jumping up and down very slowly. They passed the Wesayso Jewelry Emporium, Wesayso Shoe House, Wesayso Pancake Shop, and the Twenty-Eighth National Wesayso Bank along the way, causing Robbie to shake his head sadly at the sight of such blatant corporate overload. Kermit stopped at the outside of a store with the marquee JENNY'S FASHION EMPORIUM. "I need to run in here for a minute," he announced, "You guys go on to the store."

"Can I come with you on this one, Kermit?" Christine asked him.

"Sure, if it's OK with your dad," Kermit looked up at Alan, who nodded his approval. The man hung behind as he watched her and the frog disappear into the store. "About her your troubles are, are they not?" Yoda inquired from behind him.

"Oh, uh, yeah, um, sit down," Alan waved for him and Cantus to have a seat on a bench near the elephant fountain in the middle of the mall. He put his hands in his face. "I didn't want to believe the test results on her," he mused softly, "We have enough troubles as it is. To think that leukemia could be striking her down…my little girl…"

He broke down. "She's just six," he sobbed, "She's too young to go out like this! Tell me, how could this happen?"

"Just as you say," Cantus told him, "These things do just happen."

"But it's my fault!" Alan told him, "I didn't take her to the hospital when she first started coughing. If they'd been able to diagnose it sooner…!"

"Your fault it is not," Yoda put a hand on his shoulder, "Done everything for her you have. Now learn you must to let go when the time comes to do so."

"How am I supposed to just let her go?" the human told the Jedi, "She and her brother are everything to me. I can't just forget about her if she dies."

"Forget her you shouldn't," Cantus advised him, "But to best hold on to her memory, you'll have to let go."

Alan stared in wonder at the Fraggle. "Has anyone ever told you just how formulaic your advice is?" he told him, "By your logic you would say, 'If you want to turn left, you have to turn right,' understand what I'm saying."

"And that is the point," Cantus remarked, "For if you do turn far enough right, you will be turning left."

"Hold onto things irrationally you cannot," Yoda told Alan, "Change all things do. Even stars burn out over millions of years. Forget you must not, but accept the change you must. But more troubles you, I sense. Someone else you care for."

"My wife," Alan told him, "We all miss her terribly. Truth is, I wasn't terribly keen on her going out west to try and get us more money, but she insisted she wanted to help any way she could." He sighed deeply. "It's been so long since I've had a job," he told them, "No one wants a high school dropout with no special skills anymore. It's hard watching Christine and Zachary go around with nothing except the clothes on their back. You tell me, what good am I to that if I can't even provide for them?"

"But they love you, and you love them; clear that much is," Yoda pointed out, "Financial means matter not; truly a wealthy man you are."

Alan jerked around in surprise at the Jedi's assessment. "You really think so?" he asked him.

"We really know so," Cantus nodded, "And don't feel sorry about missing your wife. If you love her as you infer, she hasn't really left you at all. But enough of this talk. The others will need assistance with the groceries."

Inside the fashion store at that moment, Kermit approached the front desk and rang the service bell. A familiar young woman wearing red felt reindeer antlers came out of the back room. "Kermit, you made it," she exclaimed at the sight of him, "I thought with the storm and all you wouldn't come."

"Well you know me, Jenny, I always try and be punctual," Kermit said, "Do you still have it in stock?"

"Of course, I've had it locked up in the safe since December first," Jenny told him, "Sarah," she called to the teenager managing the back room, "Get Kermit's present ready."

"Can we talk while we're waiting?" Christine whispered in Kermit's ear.

"Certainly," Kermit let the girl pull him into an empty aisle. "Kermit, I hear my daddy talking a lot with the doctors lately," Christine told him softly, a frightened look on her face, "He tells me everything's fine with me. I don't fell all right, though. This cough keeps getting worse. And I've done some reading about leukemia, how it can kill you. I don't want to die, Kermit, I don't want to die!"

It was her turn to break down. Kermit put a flipper around her and pulled her close. "I know about your case," he told her, "Your father told me when we were alone together earlier. I'm sorry it has to be like this. It's probably hard to understand a lot in your position, but I'm telling you honestly, Christine, you'll have to be brave about it. Go out with a smile, not fear."

"Are you sure?" she asked him hesitantly.

"Trust me, I've had enough experience with death before to know you have to look at the positive," Kermit said. He lowered his head. "Really, loss has followed me a lot," he said slowly, "Half my brothers and sisters never made it beyond their tadpole years; the snakes and alligators in the swamp took care of that. My parents died about a year before we first went on the air; I'd give anything for them to have seen me when we were all at our height. Then there were those drunken speedboaters who ran over Robin's parents; he's never really recovered from that. And of course we all never got over losing…"

He couldn't go on, but Christine knew what he was talking about. "You still miss him, don't you?" she asked him.

"We all do," Kermit nodded, "And we didn't know anything was wrong until it was too late. I can still remember unpacking my things at the Polynesian Resort, waiting for the bus to take me to MGM Studios to sign some autographs when I got the call from Jane. I was on the first plane to New York I could get. I got to the hospital around four in the morning, but by then the doctors told me it was already too late. I at least got to say goodbye, though. Just before he went into his last coma, he looked up at me with sunken eyes and said, "I'm counting on you to take care of them all, Kermit. Make sure nothing happens to any of them." I just sort of nodded and laid my head up against his beard. He never said anything again. The nurse asked me to leave ten minutes later so they could operate again. The next time I saw him was at the funeral."

He sighed sadly at the memories of people long dead. "But over the years, I've learned that they're not all really gone," he told the girl, "Nobody ever really dies who you love. And you won't either. You've got a lot of people loving you a lot, and that's better than a lot of world leaders can say when their time comes."

"But I'm still scared, Kermit," Christine told him, "Who knows if there's life after death? What if there's nothing out there after I die?"

"You'll just have to believe there's a better place out there, Christine," Kermit pulled her close again, "It's all a leap of faith, but I think there's life after death. That there's a place where there's no pain, no suffering, just love."

For what seemed like the longest time, the two of them just stood there in the aisle embracing. "Um, am I interrupting something?" came Jenny's voice from behind them.

"Uh, no, no, um, we were just having a little talk on life and death, Jenny," Kermit told her, "I'd like you to meet Christine Reiser, her family's staying with us at Fozzie's mother's; Christine, say hi to Jenny; she helped get us on Broadway."

"Among other things," came Piggy's voice from behind them. She was glaring at Jenny with her hands on her hips. "Fancy seeing you here again, sweetheart," the pig told the human roughly.

"Didn't Kermit tell you, Piggy? I started my fashion business here," Jenny informed her, apparently oblivious to Piggy's discontent at her presence, "New York was too overcrowded for fashion designers." She looked down at Kermit. "Say, you don't mind if Sarah and I come out to Fozzie's for a little while? Since we're away from our families out here, being among familiar faces would be nice on Christmas Eve, if there's no problems."

"Yes, there would be problems!" Piggy glared at her. Kermit paid no attention. "Sure," he told Jenny, "I don't know how many rooms we'd have left; you may have to sleep in a barrel in the basement, but…."

A loud howl of frustration came from Piggy. She kicked at a rack of designer blouses and stalked off. "Is she all right?" Christine asked Kermit.

"Uh, I think so," Kermit stared after Piggy as she shoved aside a derelict that approached her outside the store and extended his hand for money, "She's just a little jealous, that's all. Apparently she likes to keep me close at all times, if you know what I mean."

"But here's the present you asked for, Kermit," Jenny handed him a carefully wrapped present, "We'll be closing up in about a half hour anyway."

"Good, we'll be in the Wesayso Food Mart getting spare food for everyone," Kermit said, "And from the length of our list, it'll take us at least that long to get everything."

* * *

"So let me get this straight," Harvey asked Rugby under the tree, "You guys are a bunch of talking toys?"

"That's right, Flat Tail," Rugby told him proudly.

"And you only come to life when people aren't looking?"

"Yeah, so?"

"What do you think, Clifford, do they have a case against Pixar for infringement?" Harvey asked the musician behind him.

"You know, I think they just might," Clifford nodded, "I don't know how easy making a case in court given the corporate…"

"Hey you cats, back on stage, we've got some more songs on the slate," Floyd Pepper called from the stage. Harvey and Clifford shrugged and ambled off. Rugby stared in wonder at his fellow toys. "What's a Pixar?" he asked them.

"Sounds like some kind of a giant fairy," Belmont proposed.

"Hold still please," Mokey informed him, "I've almost finished your picture."

Belmont stopped rocking and struck a big smile for the Fraggle. She added a few more brush strokes to the paper she was holding and held it up for the horse to see. "There, how does that look?" she asked him.

"Luckily you've got my good side," Belmont told her, "I took some damage on the other side when I was dropped…"

"Hey what about me?" Rugby protested, "Aren't you going to draw one of me?"

"Can't you wait?" Apple upbraided him, "She can only draw one of us at a time!"

"One side please, one side," Red pushed Rugby aside before things could go any further. She took a leap and grabbed onto the bottom branch of the Christmas tree. "Ready Wembley?" she asked her friend as he grabbed onto the light strand nearby, "First to the top of the tree wins."

"Ready," Wembley nodded. He glanced up to the top of the tree, where Rizzo was precariously perched. "You ready up there, judge?" he called up.

"Ready as I'll ever be," Rizzo called back down, clutching the star hard as it swayed dangerously under his weight, "Remember, no bumping or changing lanes or I'll have to disqualify you. Now when I say go, you…no, not that go, another go!"

For both Fraggles had already taken off climbing at his last "go." The two of them leaped from branch to branch up the tree. After about two minutes, Red reached the top first. "I win!" she exclaimed, raising her arms in victory—and accidentally backhanding Rizzo off the star. The rat fell head first into the floor, embedding his skull in a floorboard knothole. "Somebody get me out of here!" he screeched, kicking his legs frantically in the air.

"Relax, Rizzo," Zachary, who was sitting nearby, pulled him out and dusted him off, "It's not a big deal."

"Not a big deal he says!" Rizzo shook his head, "You don't have to worry, Zack; you're not the fall guy for all these people."

"Yep, and you just showed you're a great fall guy—literally," Statler told him from the couch. He and Waldorf laughed in triumph.

There was a trumpet and saxophone fanfare on stage as Smiley approached the microphone again. "Well ladies and gentlemen, it's now time for our piñata contest!" the game show host announced excitedly, "The first one to successfully crack it will win a plate of cookies! Sweetums, the piñata please!"

Sweetums lumbered into the room and attached the piñata to the ceiling. "Now a few minutes ago we drew numbers to see who would go first," Smiley went on, "And our hockey hero Zachary gets first draw; Zachary come on up here!"

Loud applause accompanied Zachary to the middle of the room. He smiled in contentment as he put on the blindfold Sweetums handed him and took a hard swing at the piñata. He smacked it on the bottom, putting a moderate-sized dent in it. "Very good, very good," Smiley commended him, "Grover, you're up next."

Grover flexed his fingers as he walked forward and put on the blindfold. Letting out a Samurai-style yell, he swung the bat…and conked Smiley on the head. "Sorry Guy," he apologized once he'd removed the blindfold and saw what had happened."

"No problem, Grover," Smiley said, grimacing from the pain, "In show business you get used to this. OK Mr. Sinclair, you drew number three."

Earl strode up to the piñata. He reared his arms back with the bat, took a mighty swing, and succeeded only in missing the piñata completely and falling flat on his face on the floor. "Someone close the window," Ethyl snickered nearby, "We've got a terrible breeze in here."

"All right," Earl threw up his arms in disgust, "That's it. For years you've been bringing me down over everything I do. Well, this time I'm making a stand."

"Earl, please," Fran tugged his collar urgently.

"No Fran, I have to say this!" her husband told her. Turning back to Ethyl, he shoved the bat into her hands and said, "You think you can do better than me, you hit that piñata. Go ahead, show me what you've got."

"With pleasure," Ethyl wheeled forward, raised the bat high, and smacked the piñata hard, causing a significant crack to open in the back. "Read it and weep, fat boy," she told a thoroughly humiliated Earl.

"Herry Monster, it's your turn now," Smiley announced to him. Herry confidently ambled up and hit the piñata hard—so hard it fact that it broke loose from its string and sailed down the hall and out the window. Everyone ran to the window and watched the piñata continue going across the river and over the horizon. "Well, that piñata's going to qualify for frequent flyer miles," Ernie remarked as it disappeared from sight.

"Does this mean I win?" Herry was surprised at his own strength. It was at this moment that the doorbell rang unexpectedly, followed by the sounds of more people slipping on the icy patch. "Back so soon?" Emily mused, walking up to the door, "The roads must be better than they said they'd be."

Upon opening the door, however, it was not Fozzie or anyone that had gone with him, but the Dry Bandits dressed in telegram deliverer outfits. They started tap dancing. "Oh, we're you're singing telegraph service," they sang badly out of key, "And we're here for you on Christmas Eve to deliver you a message you will like."

"Oh, well, I didn't call for a singing telegram," Emily was confused.

"Uh, it's free and on the house," Larry said, "Can we come in to give it?"

"If you insist," the elderly bear shrugged and let them inside. "This is the stupidest idea of yours yet!" Larry hissed to Bo. He placed the large sack he'd carried with him underneath the tree. Rugby put his ear up against it. "That's strange," he mused.

"What?" Balthasar hobbled over on his cane.

"There's something breathing in here," the tiger listened closely, "And it's definitely not a toy."

"It could be laundry that's eager to be washed," Boober proposed.

"Boober, laundry doesn't breath like you and me," Mokey reminded him, "Poor things, we'd better let them out before they suffocate in there."

She drew the knot to the sack and threw open the flap. Dressed in ridiculous elf suits, the Riverbottom Gang stumbled out into the light. "Dumb Fraggle, you weren't supposed to open us up yet!" the Weasel shouted, squinting hard against the light.

"What in the…?" Emily rushed over. "Charles!" she snapped upon seeing Chuck among the newcomers, "I thought I told you never to set foot in this house again!"

"Shut up auntie," Chuck pushed her aside and stormed into the center of the room, "All right, give it to us!" he ordered.

"OK, but remember, you asked for it," Oscar tossed a brick from his can at Chuck, sending the bear staggering once it connected with his forehead. Seeing that his plan had quickly unraveled, Larry drew a sawed-off shotgun and motioned for Bo to do the same. "All right, here's our message, nobody move and nobody gets hurt!" he ordered.

"How dare you brandish those guns like that!" Maria yelled at him, "We have children in here!"

"Ah, children shmildren," Larry snorted, "If they're from the inner city, they're used to guns by now. I said FREEZE!" he shouted at several Snerfs that had been inching toward the kitchen. Seeing his associates had also frozen in place he shouted, "Not you, you morons, them! Tear this place apart and find it!"

* * *

"Piggy?" Kermit stuck his head around the cereal aisle in the Wesayso Food Mart to see her hunched over the Lucky Charms shelf looking upset. He cautiously approached her. "Piggy, if this is about Jenny, let me just say…" he began.

"It's more than that, Kermit," Piggy said slowly, "I feel like I'm being marginalized in this story. I'm being shown in the worst light. It feels like the author doesn't like me."

"Well, Piggy, I don't think it's that the author doesn't like you," Kermit said encouragingly, "Maybe you're just a little harder for him to write for that some of the rest of us. There's nothing wrong with that."

"How can you say that?" she looked hard at him.

"Because this is fan fiction," the frog explained, "It's not supposed to be perfect. Certainly there are parts I'd change if I had the power to do so. And no matter how this story turns out, you're still great to me."

"You really mean it?" Piggy became unexpectedly hyper, "Oh Kermie thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you! You've made my holidays complete! Kissie kissie!"

"Uh, maybe later," Kermit quickly backed away as she advanced toward him with lips puckered, "Anyway, Fozzie says he and the others have gotten pretty much everything we need, so we might as well go and check out. We'll be good till…Yoda?"

He'd noticed out of the corner of his eye that the Jedi master had suddenly slumped downward in the juice aisle behind them. The frog ran up to him. "Yoda, what's wrong?" he asked breathlessly.

"A great disturbance in the Force I feel," Yoda said slowly, "Terrible something happened has."

"Hey Kermit, it's Telly on the phone," Gonzo came running up with his cell phone in hand, "He says it's an emergency."

"Emergency?" Kermit frowned as he took the phone. "Telly, what's going on?" he asked.

"Kermit!" Telly gasped desperately into the receiver from underneath the bed in Emily's room, "They're here! They're tearing everything up!"

"It's awful, it's tragic, it's even worse than death!" Boober added hysterically.

"Come back quick!" Rizzo chimed in as well, "Before they…oh no, not the…don't…AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!"

And then the line went dead. "Hello?" a worried Kermit pressed several buttons, but got no response. He gulped nervously and ran forward toward the checkout, which for the holidays was now situated atop a large "snow mountain" platform near the door. "Fozzie, finish paying for those things and get back to the sleigh!" he called to the bear, who was pushing a cart with groceries piled up almost to the ceiling, "We've got a serious problem back at the farm!"

"I'd love to Kermit, but take a look at the line," Fozzie pointed to the line ahead of him, which was at least thirty people long, "I think we're going to be here a while."


	10. Home Invasion

"Attention everyone, can I have your attention please?" the LAX public address announcer tried to say over the din of stranded flyers in the terminal, "Can I have your attention? Would you please pay attention…people, can we have…EVERYONE SHUT UP!" Once the terminal had gone silent, he said, "Due to an unexpected winter storm approaching Los Angeles, we will be shutting down the airport in ten minutes. All passengers not wishing to be stranded here for days on end should leave by then."

Alicia jerked her head up from the prostrate position she'd been lying in for the last hour or so to see with shock that Los Angeles, of all places, had unexpectedly become a winter wonderland, with the snow coming down hard—so hard, in fact, that the runway could barely be seen at the moment. "Just my luck!" she groaned, slumping back down.

"Miss?" came a new voice. Bobo was standing over her in a security uniform, his own suitcase in hand, "Miss, you'll have to get ready and leave, we'll be shutting down soon, in case you didn't hear."

"I know," she sighed sadly, "But I have nowhere to go. I'm flat broke; paying for this ticket back east used up the last of my funds, and I already checked out of the apartment complex. How did things come to this?"

"Who knows?" Bobo stared longing at the snow outside, "You never can control what happens in life. If I knew I'd get stuck in that trunk back in Maine I wouldn't have…well, it's a long story, and I guess you don't want to hear it. Anyway, the bathrooms will still be open if you'll be staying, but the coffee shop will be shuttered until Boxing Day, so you'll have to look around for breakfast. Anyway, merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas," Alicia told him glumly as he lumbered off. She closed her eyes and tried to think of happier times to get her through the misery of the present. It would take a miracle to be home for the holidays now, but what kind of miracle could come out of this?

* * *

"Come on, come on!" Gonzo tapped his foot impatiently back east. The line to the checkout had moved a grand total of about five feet in the last twenty minutes.

"Don't tell me this is how things usually run with these checkouts as you call them," Gobo asked the whatever from his perch with Robin atop Big Bird's shoulder, "Because this is ridiculous."

"Even unbearable," Fozzie lamented, "But at least I think the cashier is just as impatient as us."

He pointed up the fake mountain. At the top, a clearly stressed-looking Santa was ringing up an old woman's groceries very rapidly. "Thank you for shopping with us, HOOOO HOOO HOOOO," he said in rapid succession, tossing the goods into paper bags without any concern for their breakability, "And here's your receipt, come back soon." He leaned toward the elf next to him and muttered out loud, "Get her out of here, I'm not working a minute of overtime!"

The elf forcefully dragged the old woman to a plastic slide on the other side of the "mountain" and shoved her and the groceries down it. "Next, next, HOOOO HOOOO HOOOO!" the Santa half-bellowed to a young boy who was the next one in line with a box of cookies. This caused the boy to immediately start screaming in terror. "Oh, we've got a screamer here, get rid of him, HOOOO HOOO HOOOO!" the Santa grumbled to the elf, who tossed the boy down the slide without the cookies.

"You guys still waiting here?" Jenny and Sarah had arrived, their coats on and purses in hand, "I guess I should have mentioned there'd be only one guy on checkout duty tonight."

"Well we've got bigger problems than that, Jenny," Kermit informed her, "Something terrible's gone on back at the farmhouse, and we're stuck waiting when we could be helping." He glanced at Yoda. "Couldn't you do something to make them move faster, Master Yoda?" he asked him.

"Under the circumstances I cannot," Yoda said, "Unnecessary infringement on their free will it would be; a Jedi does not take away another's free will for personal gain."

"Well whatever your moral stance is, it's not moving this line at all!" Gonzo started shouting crazily, "If something terrible has happened to Camilla, I'll never forgive myself!"

"Well we're just as worried as you are, but there's no need to get hysterical, Gonzo," Kermit told him.

"I'M NOT HYSTERICAL!" Gonzo shrieked in the frog's face. After a moment, he grumbled, "All right, I am hysterical! I'm hysterical, I'm hysterical, I'm…!"

"Keep your shirt on, weirdo, I'll get this line going. MOVE IT, MOVE IT, MOVE IT!" Piggy plowed like a running back through the other customers, karate-chopping those who resisted down the stairs. Everyone followed her through the increasing gaps in the line until they'd reached the register. "That's the Santa Claus that lives at the top of Outer Space?" Gobo frowned at the Saint Nick behind the counter, "Wait a minute, how can you be here if you're supposed to be getting ready to fly around the world to deliver presents?"

"Hang on a second," Big Bird snapped his wingtips, "Maybe THAT'S how he gets down the chimneys; Santa can bi-locate and be in two places at once!"

"Yeah, yeah, that's great, bird, now can Santa have your groceries so I can get out of here?" the "Claus" grumbled at him.

Here you go, Mr. Santa," Fozzie strained to push all the groceries toward him. Santa pressed the cash register buttons and swiped off Fozzie's Bearican Express card. "Keep the change, bear," he told him, oblivious to the fact that change wasn't necessary, "Now beat it so I can get going too, HOOOO HOOOO HOOOO!"

The elf picked the bear up and started to toss him down the slide. "Wait, wait, wait!" Fozzie jammed his legs against the sides of the slide, "I forgot to buy honey Popsicles! I've got to go back and…!"

"You'll rot your teeth out, bear," the Santa told him, "Merry Christmas. HOOOO HOOO HOOOO!"

He stomped down on Fozzie's head, sending him tumbling down the slide and through the front door of the supermarket out on the street. The others joined him in a heap in quick succession. "Boy, if that was his cheerful side, I'd hate to come by on his bad days," the bear remarked.

"There no time to waste; to the Xmasmobile," Kermit struck a heroic pose of sorts before leading the charge back to the sleigh, where Buster and Leroy were sound asleep and snoring. Everyone piled on board (except for Yoda and Cantus, who continued to hover by Force power off the rear bumper). Fozzie leaped into the driver's seat. "Ride like the wind, Bullseye!" he yelled at Buster and Leroy before realizing, "Whoops, wrong story. No toys here."

Neither the horse nor the donkey woke up. "Come on you guys, we've got a crisis at hand!" Fozzie pleaded, snapping the reins to no avail. "Oh, I knew we let them eat too much at dinner!" he lamented, "They always conk out when they eat too much. Now how will we get going?"

"Now that we've got the food, we're going to have another snack when we get back," Robin called out loud. In seconds Buster and Leroy snapped awake and took off running. "Works every time," the small frog said with a smile.

"Wow, I would have never thought that would have done the trick," Fozzie turned to congratulate him, "I think…"

"Watch the road, fuzzball!" Piggy yelled, pointing at a snowy figure that had trudged into the middle of the street. "And so Kermit and the others began racing back to the farmhouse," he was saying out loud to no one in particular, "Not knowing what horrors would await them when they returned."

"Move, move, move!" Fozzie waved his paw frantically at the snowman, but to no avail, as he was rather violently run over by the sled and crumpled into a million particles. "Hey, is that any way to treat Joe Snow, your narrator!?" he called after them.

"How many times do we have to tell you?" Gonzo yelled back at him, "We don't NEED a snowman narrator, you Burl Ives wannabe!"

"No, but I think we DO needs seatbelts!" Robbie clutched the back of the sleigh hard, looking uncomfortable with the high rate of speed they were going at, "Not even Mom gets this bad when my brother has to…hey what's that up there?"

The sleigh was now driving straight toward a sign reading BRIDGE OUT: GO BACK UNLESS YOU'RE NUTS. "What is this doing here!?" Robbie protested, "We didn't pass by a broken bridge when we came in! Is this supposed to be here!?"

"If the author thinks it adds drama, I guess so," Robin told him.

"But what purpose does this serve even for plot purposes!?" the dinosaur rants onward, "There's no reason for us to have to go through trials like this just to get back to our loved ones!"

"Too late, we're going to have to," Fozzie snapped the reins. Buster and Leroy accelerated toward the broken span. The sleigh's odometer quickly rose from SLOW to FAST to TOO FAST to YOU'RE CRAZY! as they hit the edge of the bridge and went airborne. Even though it was only a short bridge, no more than eight hundred feet from one end to the other, they had to strain to get to the opposite side for whatever reason and barely landed safely. "That was close!" the bear breathed a large sigh of relief. Then he noticed something out of the ordinary. "Hey, where'd the animals go?"

"Hey Foz, what are you doing up there?" came Buster's voice form the back of the sleigh, where he and Leroy were now trailing behind and running hard just to avoid being dragged along.

"Hold still for a moment you will," Yoda told him. A look of intense concentration crossed his face. The next thing anyone knew, the sleigh was levitating in the air, allowing the donkey and horse to charge forward back to their normal positions. Yoda returned the sleigh back to earth. "Never done my job is," he asided to Cantus.

"Neither is this game," Cantus was apparently the only one not fazed by their wild pace. He mentally directly his biggest piece to capture Yoda's biggest piece.

"Whoa there!" Fozzie yanked on the reins, bringing Buster and Leroy to an abrupt halt in the middle of the road. Everyone watched as the Swedish Chef chased Pepe across the road. "Talk about your running gags," Gonzo remarked, "How long has that been going on now?"

"Well, it does mean we're almost there," Kermit said, "In fact, I can see it now. And look, here comes..."

A strangled cry cut him off. Sam was running up the road on his wings and talons, the Baby on his back. The child was slapping the eagle on the rump very hard and repeatedly. "Ride 'em, buckin' bronto!" it was shouting in gleeful malice.

"That does it!" Sam rose up, "You have driven me to wit's end! It's time I enforce corporal punishment!"

He seized the Baby and hurled it hard into a tree. "Again!" the infant shouted in delight. Sam staggered over to the sleigh. "Kermit, thank God you made it back!" he moaned, "This child has driven me to the edge of sanity! I can take no more of…!"

Kermit wasn't paying attention. He had noticed the smoke ominously bellowing from the front windows of the farmhouse, now visible in the distance. He led everyone else on the sleigh on a panicked charge toward the building and up the front steps—everyone slipping on the icy patch again as they did—to find everyone inside the farmhouse lying on the floor moaning in agony. Just about everything in the house had been overturned, and most of the presents had been either completely or partially torn up. "Are you guys OK?" the frog asked, running first to Doc Bullfrog and helping his uncle up, "Is anyone hurt? What did they set on fire?"

"Nothing!" snapped Charlene from inside the closet, where she was hunched over a small campfire on the rug, "I've got to do something to stay warm! What's so wrong with that?"

"Well you know, Charlene, you had us all worried someone had been burned up!" Robbie scolded his sister, "Is staying warm really worth that?"

"Well at least no one seems to be hurt," Fozzie said with a large sigh of relief.

"OH NO!" Gonzo shrieked, running into the kitchen, where a roasted chicken was sitting on the table. "Oh Camilla!" he howled, throwing himself about it, "They cooked you alive! I'm so sorry! I should have stayed and protected you!"

"Don't rumple it up, I want to cook that tomorrow morning," Emily staggered by, looking rather dazed, "Your chicken friend took refuge behind the couch."

Gonzo turned slowly to see Camilla rise up from behind the sofa, perfectly intact. "Uh, I knew that," the whatever said quickly.

"Sure you did," Emily said with a tinge of sarcasm, "But I am glad you and the lizard got back here."

"Frog," Kermit corrected her, "Do you know who did this to us?"

"Of course I do," Emily said with distaste in her voice, "It was my thieving nephew and his gang of hooligans, plus their human goons. But what they were after, I don't know."

"I think it might have been this," Zachary called from the tree. He held up the half-unwrapped Baseball Diamond as his father rushed to him and embraced him. There were gasps of awe as everyone gathered around to look at it. "What is that wondrous thing?" Wembley asked.

"Let me take a look," Sherlock Hemlock pushed his way forward examined the diamond with his magnifying glass, "Egad, I've got it," he proclaimed, "This is a large chunk of ice that has managed not to melt, certainly very valuable on the market."

"No, it's the fabulous Baseball Diamond," Floyd Pepper picked it up, "I'd recognize this thing anywhere. But what's it doing here, and who would want it this badly?"

"Uh guys," Kermit said slowly from inside the closet, "I think I know. We're dealing here with a foe who with his every appearance on television dumbs down the minds of everyone who watches him and tries to turn them into mindless zombies."

"You mean we were attacked by Bob Saget?" Scooter asked.

"No, far, far worse," Kermit told him. He held up a crumpled wrapping paper labeled DOC HOPPER'S FRENCH FRIED FROG LEGS, which brought about numerous loud gasps. "Him?" Grover was shocked, "What could he possibly want with that?"

"I don't know, but I do know his goons'll be back," Rowlf admitted, "They'd still be here if Doglion hadn't scared them when they threw open the closet door. They'd said they'd be back with more guns and men."

"Then we've got make sure they don't get the diamond," Kermit mused, "It rightfully belongs to Lady Holliday. Now if Doc Hopper were sending goons after you to get it, who are you going to call?"

"Hopperbusters?" Fozzie proposed. Kermit groaned.

"But what can we do?" Telly asked nervously, "We're not armed! And the phone lines are still down, so we can't call the cops! We don't have a chance to stop them!"

"Actually," Kermit stood up on a chair to address everyone, "I think there is something we can do: we can do like they do in the movies and turn this whole house into a war zone, so when they come back, they'll find the going a bit tough. In the meantime, we'll work on getting the phone lines back up and running so we can call the police, and they can come and catch Hopper's thugs red-handed. Are there any questions?"

Ernie's hand shot up. "What color are their hands now?" he asked. Kermit slapped a flipper to his face. "Rowlf, how soon ago did they leave?" he asked the dog.

"About fifteen minutes ago," Rowlf said, "Given the shape of the roads, we probably have about twenty more minutes before they get back here."

"Well then, we haven't got a moment to lose," Kermit announced, "Let's find everything we can and get set up; it looks like from the damage they inflicted here we'll have to work overtime on this. Who's with me?"

Pretty much everyone cheered in excitement and bustled about in determination to keep the unwelcome intruders from returning. Among the chaos, Big Bird waddled over to Oscar, who was staring out the cracked back window. "Aren't you going to help us too, Oscar?" he asked the grouch.

"Ordinarily not if your life depended on it," Oscar told him, "But when people like them attack me," he pulled a metal army helmet out of his trash can and plunked it down on his head, "They ask for it. And nobody ruins the misery of Commando Grouch. Let's go people!" he shouted rather rudely at the others, none of whom seemed to care, "We've got a lot of work to do here! Telly, go check the bathrooms for anything that might knock a guy senseless! Fraggles, go back down your hole and find as many of your friends you can! Hold it a minute," he waved the Two-Headed Monster over to his can, "You go up to the roof and secure a way for us to get out of here in an emergency, and you go down the basement and look for more traps."

The monster started shouting at itself as it tried to obey both of Oscar's directives and found itself running in different directions. Oscar managed a very small grin. "Maybe I will like it here after all," he said to himself.


	11. Farmhouse Alone

"We shouldn't have run like that," the Weasel was still grumbling as the Dry Bandits' truck inched slowly up the lane toward Grizzly Farm, a small convoy of their new hired associates right behind them "I had the diamond right in my hand when you dragged me out the door!"

"No problem," Larry reassured him, "It was just a gut reaction. This time we know not to just panic if we see anything monstrous in the closet."

They pulled up behind a snow bank that was out of sight of the front porch. Up on top of the roof, unseen by the would-be intruders, Homer Honker had already spotted them with binoculars. He turned down the stairs and honked his nose three times in a row. Down below, Emmett nodded at the signal. "They're here, guys!" he shouted down the main stairs in turn, "Better get ready!"

There was a loud bustling as dozens of Muppets and humans ran about to their first stations. "Kermit, I think we're throwing the whole story out the window here," Scooter expressed his feelings to the frog as they positioned themselves underneath the front window, "If this is supposed to be a nice heartwarming story on helping a family learn to live, we can't just go about slamming the bad guys like this."

"Attention everyone," came the voice of an all-too familiar voice over a megaphone, "This is your old friend Doc Hopper speaking. I hate to be impolite, but you all have thirty seconds to hand over the fabulous Baseball Diamond to us, or else we'll be forced to do something like this to you."

A spray of warning fire peppered the windows, forcing everyone down to the floor. "Or then again, maybe we can do this without ruining the story," Scooter added.

"So what's it going to be?" Hopper inquired, "The diamond or pain?"

Kermit held up a radio to his mouth. "All right Gonzo, send out the first wave," he instructed the whatever, knowing full well that at this point there was no going back.

Outside, the thieves were reloading their weapons. "So what happens if they do give us the diamond anyway?" the Snake asked his bosses.

"Simple, we go in and shoot them all anyway," Bitterman told him, "I've wanted their heads for years, and no bunch of…"

"Hey look up at that," Bo pointed at the sky. A large flock of chickens was soaring over the farmhouse towards them, clucking out "Ride of the Valkyries." "Go on, fly!" Gonzo cackled in delight from the upper bedroom window as they all flew by him, "Fly my pretties, fly! Now dive!"

The chickens dove toward the invading party. The next thing anyone knew, they were being hit with a barrage of egg bombs. They groaned and dove for cover. Pa Gorg took refuge behind an elm. "So, the Enemies want to play rough with us, do they?" he asked out loud to no one in particular, "Well, they'll find that the Gorg Empire shows as little mercy to them as they show to us. CHHHAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRGGE!"

He charged toward the front door, waving his sword wildly…and promptly became the latest person to slip on the icy patch, landing with such a thud that the entire farmhouse shook on its foundation. "Careful of the icy patch!" everyone inside shouted.

Pa heaved himself up. "Got to be more careful," he told himself. He stepped backwards and yelled "CHHHHHAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGE!" again. This time he took care to leap over the icy patch, but Dr. Teeth threw open the door before he could knock it down. Pa continued charging across the den, into the kitchen, out the back door—which Queen Peuta threw open for him—and across the river and over the snow hills, oblivious to the fact there was no longer anything in his path. Meanwhile, the egg barrage continued on his allies. Bo scrambled under a bush. "I think they're more prepared than we thought, Larry!" he informed his partner.

"So tell me something I DON'T know!" Larry shouted at him, "Well have to sneak in the back way. Go and take cover behind that snow bear over there."

"Right," Bo crawled out with his arms protecting his head. "You'll protect me, right snow bear?" he told the cold figure before him. Then he frowned at it. "Wait a minute, you look a lot like…"

Without warning the seemingly inanimate snow bear sprung to life. "Happy birthday!" Fozzie shouted, producing a birthday cake from seemingly thin air and throwing it in Bo's face. While the thief sputtered and wiped the cake out of his eyes, the bear threw open the storm cellar door and climbed down into the basement. "How's it coming with the phone lines, guys?" he asked Ernie and Bert, who were examining the lines one at a time.

"We're still working on it, but it's going to take longer than we originally hoped," Bert shook his head, "They definitely did something to the lines when they were down here."

"It would also help if we knew which lines were which," Rizzo remarked, completely tangled up in the phone lines, "You mother put too many down here. Take this one for example," he held up a heavily frayed wire, "This one's nearly shot. If this was used extensively…"

"Look at this plug," Ernie noticed one lying on the floor, "Maybe if we just plug it back in, we'll get the phones back up."

He pushed the plug into the nearest outlet. Immediately Rizzo, who was still holding the exposed part of the wire, was hit with a massive electricity surge. Smoke poured from the rat's ears, and his eyes glowed with light as he let out a shriek and fell shaking to the floor. "Nope, wait, that's not the phone line," Ernie realized, "This goes to the refrigerator. My mistake."

"T-T-T-That's e-e-e-e-e-e-e-easssy f-f-f-f-f-for y-y-y-y-y-y-you t-t-t-t-t-t-t-o s-s-s-s-s-s-s-say!" Rizzo stammered, still vibrating.

Outside, the egg barrage stopped. Covered in yokes, Hopper hefted the megaphone again. "Go, go, break that door down and rip them apart for this!" he shouted at his henchmen.

"Let's go boys!" Sledge shouted at his fellow farmers. They rushed the front door and started chopping it in with their axes. Within ninety seconds it was completely destroyed. Larry pushed his way past them. "Aha, the diamond!" he exclaimed, noticing it lying on the coffee table. He advanced toward it….

Only to have Sprocket grab it in his mouth at the last second. The dog flung it toward Robbie in the corner. Robbie dribbled it away from the advancing Dry Bandits and company as if it were a basketball—all while the Electric Mayhem played "Sweet Georgia Brown"—and passed it like a basketball to Charlie. The muskrat spun it on his finger and passed it between his legs to Herry. The monster assumed a pitcher's stance. "Curveball over the plate!" he announced, tossing it up in the air.

"I GOT IT!" Bo jumped up on the couch and took a mighty swing at the diamond with the piñata bat…and absolutely walloped Larry in the face with it. "Uh oh," he whimpered upon seeing what he'd done, "Sorry Larry, I didn't…"

Growling in utter rage, Larry seized the bat off his partner and began walloping Bo right back. "One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, nine severe blows to the head, ah ha ha ha ha ha!" the Count counted them all, followed by the usual lightning storm.

"Hey, they're getting away with the diamond!" the Pop-Eyed Catfish leaned out of his bucket and gestured with his fin at Yolanda the rat, who was carrying the diamond toward the fireplace. "Get back here with that, you rat!" Larry yelled, running after her. He scrambled up the chimney after her, only to find himself completely stuck about halfway up. Unable to move, he could only flail his arms toward Yolanda, who tossed the diamond off to several more rats waiting inside the chimney. "Bo, do somethin' useful and get me outta here!" he screamed at his partner.

"I'm coming Larry!" Bo obediently ran over and peered up the chimney. "Where are you, Larry, I can't see a thing," he commented.

"Right up here, dufus!" Larry berated him. He groaned as the rats tossed the Baseball Diamond out the top of the chimney and scrambled out.

"I'll have to get some light, Larry," Bo dug out a cigarette lighter and started clicking it.

"Hey Bo, do you smell something?" Larry's brow furled. There was a loud hissing sound clearly audible throughout the chimney. "It smells a lot like…"

And then he realized what was about to happen. "Bo, NNNNNOOOOOOOOOO!" he shrieked a few seconds too late as Bo ignited the lighter, triggering a massive gas explosion that sent the taller crook flying through wall and across into the barn, and sent Larry rocketing up the chimney in a massive fireball. "Well that'll light up his life," Waldorf remarked as he and Statler observed Larry's fiery trajectory over the horizon from the front window.

"He should know these things always happen to hotheads," Statler agreed. The two of them broke into hard mocking laughter.

The Riverbottom Gang rose up from behind the sofa, where they'd taken refuge from the blast. "They took it upstairs to the roof," Chuck stated the obvious to his associates, "You go outside and cut them off, "I'll go up there and see if I can stop them."

He ran hard up the stairs to the second floor, only to stop short at the top. For Fozzie had appeared wearing a familiar baker suit and false mustache. "Thirty-eight 50-pound barbells!" he announced grandly, holding up a set of plates with them on. He handed them to Chuck before his cousin could react. Chuck strained under the weight of the barbells and toppled backwards down the stairs, dropping barbells everywhere. "And that's the song of 38!" sang almost seven dozen hidden voices from around the house.

There was a cracking of wood as Larry staggered back in over the broken door, his clothing in complete tatters from the blast. "No more Mr. Nice Guy!" he shouted, "So long, chump!"

He pointed his gun at Fozzie, who was without any cover on the stairs, but all of a sudden Cookie Monster popped out of nowhere and swallowed the gun. "You, you!" Larry sputtered at him, "That cost me fifty bucks off my Guns 'R' Us Discount Card!"

"Me need daily iron intake," Cookie burped, "Part of new nutritional guidelines."

"Here's the iron intake for you!" McMooch aimed a bazooka at the monster—only to have it eaten up in a flash by Animal. "Tastes just like chicken," the Electric Mayhem's drummer commented, rubbing his stomach in content.

"GET THEM ALL!" Larry roared. He picked up a large jagged piece of wood and chased Cookie and Animal toward the kitchen, only to activate a tripwire as he went through the doorway that activated a set of blowguns set up above him that fired a set of darts into his rear. "OOOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWW!" he shouted, hopping around in pain.

"Maybe he should take the point and leave now," Statler remarked to Waldorf upon watching this latest predicament.

"I think he already gets the point," Waldorf pointed at the darts in Larry's rear, causing the two of them to laugh hard again.

Outside, Bitterman knocked hard on the door of the Gorg's carriage. "You, Pinky," she demanded to Ma, "You're not doing anything. Get out there and help break inside."

"But that's my husband the king's job," Ma protested, "I'm supposed to hold down the fort on…"

"DO IT!" Bitterman shrieked.

"Oh why do I let myself get talked into these things?" Ma grumbled but she still dutifully trudged over to a tree by the west side of the house and inched up it. It started groaning under her weight. "It looks like the bathroom's unoccupied," she called out loud once she was level with it.

"Well then, open up the window and outflank them!" Bitterman shouted impatiently.

Ma reached out for the windowsill and pushed the window open once she was in place. But then Wembley appeared on the ledge. "Hey Gorg!" he shouted as he stuck out his tongue at Ma. Ma shrieked in terror at the sight of him and let go of the branch, falling to the ground with a colossal thud. "Ma, are you all right?" Junior ran up to her.

"Of course I am, Junior," Ma brushed herself off, "Something broke my fall."

"GET OFF ME YOU FAT OAF!" came Bitterman's muffled voice from underneath the Gorg. The businesswoman squirmed out form underneath Ma and kicked her in the shin. "You're useless!" she degraded the self-appointed Queen of the Universe.

"Hey, is that any way to talk to the Queen of the Universe?" Junior asked in his mother's defense.

"Why are you just standing around here?" Bitterman demanded to him, "You get in there and help them get the diamond or else!"

Meanwhile, Bo stumbled back in through the hole in the wall he'd created during the earlier explosion, looking completely frazzled. No sooner had he set foot in the den again than Scooter suddenly appeared dressed as a director. "Well, I was wondering when you'd show up," he berated a thoroughly confused Bo, "This commercial isn't going to wait all day to be done. Come on and get in your position, we're going to do this in one take."

He dragged Bo into the exact center of the den. "Makeup please," he called out.

"MAKEUP!" Animal sauntered up and threw a pan of makeup into Bo's face. Scooter handed the stunned Bo a script. "Just read the part in yellow," he informed him, "And the faster the better."

He strolled behind a camera Janice was operating and announced, "Action!" Bo glanced down at the script. "I hate Wilkins Coffee," he said in an absolutely flat line reading, "I would destroy every cup of it if I could."

The door to the closet swung open. "Well destroy this," announced Wilkins, aiming a large cannon at Bo. A loud explosion shook the room, and when the smoke subsided there was another Bo-shaped hole in the wall. "Cut, print it," Scooter told Janice.

Upstairs, Bunsen and Doc were stirring a large mixture together in a vat. "Are you sure this is the right formula for the instant Unmeltable Ice?" the human asked.

"Absolutely," Bunsen said confidently, "Beaker and I have perfected this inside Muppet Labs over the last week in the event just such an emergency as this would arise."

"How incredibly convenient," Doc mused, "Well, we might as well see if it works; I hear company coming."

Mean Floyd was charging up the hall at them, ax raised. The two inventors dumped the vat's contents onto the floor in front of the farmer. Mean Floyd immediately slipped on it and slid past them and out the window, where he flew out onto the middle of the river. As fate would have it, Pa Gorg was charging back across it at the same time, and the ice could not support their combined weight. The two of them broke through the ice with a loud splash. Seconds later they remerged, sopping wet. "Looks like you and the Silly Creature are all washed up, Gorg!" Red taunted them from the banks.

"I'm gonna thump you good, Fragg---!" Pa and Mean Floyd started to charge at her, but within seconds they'd both frozen solid. Upstairs, Bunsen and Doc exchanged high fives. "A most successful test," the Muppet proclaimed, "Let us now see if we can get that tin roof sundae tosser to work as…careful there, Beaker."

For Beaker had slipped on the patch of Unmeltable Ice and fallen sideways over the staircase railing, where he landed a cactus that had been set up for the bad guys. "MMEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEPPPPPPP!" he shrieked in pain.

"Fresh meat!" Lardpork noticed the hapless lab assistant was open and vulnerable. He lunged toward him with his own ax…but failed to notice the sawed-through floorboards in his path. Lardpork fell through the floor into a large vat of…GLUE?" the farmer shouted, taking note that he was now covered from head to toe in it.

"That's right, it's a sticky situation," remarked Oscar, who was positioned nearby wearing a handyman's uniform. The grouch speared Lardpork on the end of his paperhanger and pushed him against the wall. "Three purple conkers playing with glue," he sang out as he rolled wallpaper over the farmer/robber, "One got stuck up, and then there were two."

"GET ME OUT OF HERE!" Lardpork shouted at the top of his lungs, straining without success to tear free from the wall.

The basement door slammed open. "There's one," the Weasel pointed at the grouch, "Let's rip his head off!"

The entire Riverbottom Gang charged down the stairs, not noticing the jacks spread out all over the floor until it was too late. "OOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWWW!" they shrieked, hopping around in pain. "Oh and by the way, I've got a little going away present for you guys too," Oscar told them. He leaned around a support column and ordered, "Five tossed salads, Private Telly!"

"Yes Sir, Commando Grouch," Telly yanked a rope that launched several catapults of salad at the Riverbottomers, who retreated hastily. Except for the Pop-Eyed Catfish, who was accidentally kicked out of his bucket by the Weasel. "Hey Chuck, guys, don't leave me here!" he pleaded them to no avail, as they slammed the door shut on him. "Chuck!" he moaned, flopping out onto the floor and up the steps, "Water, quick!"

Upstairs, Larry pulled the last of the darts out of his rear. "All right, that's it you filthy…!" he growled, storming back into the living room. Sam was now in his path. "You will cease and desist these actions of yours immediately, or face a consequence worse than death," the eagle informed him.

"Oh, I'm really scared!" Larry taunted him.

"You should be," Sam tossed the Baby at Larry. "Not the Momma!" the infant dinosaur shouted, whacking Larry over the head with a heavy metal snow shovel.

"Stop it you miscreant!" Larry shouted, ramming his head into the wall in a desperate attempt to make the Baby stop. It was to no avail, however, for the Baby kept walloping away at him with ever more excited cries of, "Not the Momma, not the Momma, not the Momma, NOT THE MOMMA!"

Bo stumbled back in through the latest hole in the wall and noticed his partner's latest predicament. "Don't worry Larry, I'll save you!" he shouted, hurling the Baby to the ground and jumping up and down on top of it. "Again!" the Baby shouted in delight.

"Hey guys, look what we've got up here!" Gobo called down, cradling the diamond in his arms on the upper railing. A blast of gunfire from the Dry Bandits made him dive behind the diamond in safety. "Come on you guys!" Larry yelled at the salad-covered Riverbottom Gang as they trudged into the room, "There's our payday!"

The six of them charged up the stairs at Gobo. "When we get through with all of ya, they ain't gonna be able to…uh oh!" Bo's dire threat fell silent early. For Fozzie-as-the-baker had reappeared again. "Sixty-three polished anvils!" he announced, shoving his platters with the anvils into Chuck's arms again and once again causing him to fall down the stairs under the weight, this time taking his fellow gang members with him. "And that's the song of 63!" everyone sang out.

"Sixty-three thousand dollars, that is!" Earl said gleefully. He was filming the thieves' latest mishap with a video recorder. Fran walked up and tapped her husband on the shoulder. Earl Snead Sinclair, what do you think you're doing?" she had to know.

"Well Fran, once Pangaea's Most Painful Home Injuries sees the footage of this, we're going to be rich, rich, rich!" Earl rubbed his hands excitedly. It was at that moment that a shotgun blast from Sledge destroyed the dinosaur's camera. Earl burst into tears at the sight of his dream ruined. "I'm going to get me a dinosaur-skin coat!" Sledge threatened, taking aim at the Sinclairs…

Only to be distracted by a loud crashing noise as someone fell through the ceiling. "You will not harm these dinosaurs!" proclaimed Super Grover as he untangled himself from his cape, "I, Super Grover, will defeat you with ridiculous ease!"

"And how do you suppose to do that?" Sledge sneered.

"By the most surefire way of defeating villains there is; hopping up and down and saying 'Wubba wubba,' because it also sounds so nice to say. WUBBA, WUBBA, WUBBA, WUBBA, WUBBA, WUBBA, WUBBA, WUBBA!" Super Grover hopped around circles, apparently convinced beyond doubt that this ploy would work. Sledge laughed sadistically. "Killing you'll be a blast!" he remarked.

"Did somebody say blast?" Crazy Harry jumped out from behind the sofa and pressed down on his plunger, blowing Sledge out the window. Junior ran through the hole he'd left, his club held high. "Oh, I know you Fwaggles are up to no good with this!" he shouted, waving it around, "I'm gonna smack everyone one of you around! Where are you Fwaggles?"

"They're in the kitchen; hurry and you'll catch them!" Jen called out. Junior lumbered toward it and opened the door—and keeled forward as Rowlf's piano fell right on his skull. "Fool!" the Pop-Eyed Catfish gasped from the sink as he hastily filled a drinking glass with water and dove inside, "No one else would fall for something like that!"

But upstairs at that moment, Bo was shoving open doors on the second floor in a mad search for his assailants. "I know you're all in here!" he yelled, 'Come out and fight like real men!"

"They took the diamond out the bathroom window!" Wendell called from inside the shower.

"Thanks," Bo told him. Then he ran into the bathroom and stupidly dove out the window, landing with a thud on top of Hopper. "Did they pass you with the diamond?" he asked his employer.

"Oh dear God," Hopper growled, jumping to his feet and rummaging through the limo's trunk, "Must I do everything myself?"

Back inside, Larry and the Riverbottomers hauled themselves back up out of the anvils. "Now we're going to kill each and every one of you until you die from it!" the short crook shouted, cocking his own gun again, "Let's go get them!"

"Hang on, maybe we better think this over," the Snake mused, but it was already too late. Large globs of tin roof sundaes flew at them from Doc and Bunsen's tosser, sending them skidding onto a table in the hallway. Marvin Suggs popped up with a mallet. "And now, for your listening pleasure, 'Deck the Halls!'" he announced grandly to no one. He started pounding out the tune on the villains' heads to accompanying "ows!"

Up in the attic, Gobo rolled the diamond over to Kermit, who was now sitting with the rest of the humans (they had decided it would be better not to put the children in harm's way). "Now what do we do with this thing?" he asked the frog.

"Leave it over on that trunk there," Kermit instructed him, " Ernie and Bert should have the phone lines up and running by now, so we can let the police come and catch them red-handed."

"What color are their hands now?" the Fraggle asked.

"Bad news, Kermit," came Bert's voice crackling over the radio, "We're going to need more time to get the phone lines back up."

Kermit sighed. "Well, try and get it as best you can," he told Bert, "Tell everyone down there to abandon the house; seeing how mad these guys are now, getting in their way would be dangerous. We'll be leaving too."

"Uh, not that I'm complaining," the Storyteller called from the attic window, "But do you have a concrete way to get us down from here?" There's no tree or wire here."

Kermit ran over to him and looked down at the ground at least three stories below. "I knew I was forgetting something with this plan!" he groaned.

"All right you guys!" came Larry's angry shout from below, "When we get up there, this is what's gonna happen to each and every one of you!"

Machine gun fire strafed the attic floor. Everyone scrambled to be as close to the window—and away from the bullets—as possible. "Anyone get any idea, smart or insane?" Rowlf had to know.

"I've still got the paper towels," Lew Zealand held them up. Kermit examined them. "What the heck," he shrugged, "Women and children first. But we'll need a distraction to buy us enough time."

Below, Bo clambered up the stairs, the Pop-Eyed Catfish in his hand. "Where are they, Larry?" he yelled, "I've gonna break all their necks!"

"Well, at least somebody finally decides to be useful!" Larry berated him, "They're up in the attic. You're expendable; you and the fish go first."

"Catfish," the Pop-Eyed Catfish corrected him firmly, "You humans are too broad with your…"

"Oh no!" Chuck groaned, for Fozzie-as-the-baker was in their path yet again at the top of the attic steps. "One hundred and fifteen—gasp—rusty—ugh—anchors!" the would-be comedian strained hard to hold onto the trays of anchors. Unable to, he let the anchors cascade forward and clear the stairs of the bad guys. "And that's the song of 115!" everyone in the attic sang out.

"Where are they getting all this stuff?" the Snake muttered weakly from under a pile of anchors.

"Like they said in the last story, they're the good guys; they can find anything they need whenever they want it," the Lizard pointed out.

"Yeah, well as the bad guys we've got unlimited firepower at any time!" Larry drew a set of heavy guns, "Let's chop 'em into little pieces!"

Upstairs, Fozzie slid a safe against the attic door and joined everyone slowly climbing out the window on the paper towels. Perhaps because they were indeed the good guys, the towels were holding up remarkably well under their combined weights. "I don't think they'll bother us for a while, Kermit," he told the frog, "Shouldn't we give the Reisers something to do? They've been pretty much marginalized for the last chapter and a half or so."

More gunfire blasted the door. "Never mind that now, Fozzie, just go!" Kermit pushed his friend out the window. It was only he and Piggy left in the attic now. "Well, Piggy, we did what we could," he told her.

"Well, at least if this is the end, at least we'll die together, Kermie," Piggy told him.

"Indeed," Kermit nodded, "And to be honest, Piggy, if we do get blown away, I am glad to be going out together with you."

"Do you mean it?" Piggy's face lit up with awe, "Oh Kermit, you…!"

The door was kicked in. "Uh, enough sentiment!" Kermit grabbed her hand and dove out the window with her. Seconds later the bad guys swarmed into the attic. "Surrender frog!" Larry bellowed.

"The diamond!" the Weasel ran over to it and cradled it lovingly in his arms, "Well, no need for us to hang around here anymore."

"Oh yes we do," Chuck scraped his claws against the wall, "We need blood."

"Oh Charles, we're down here," Emily's voice wafted up from outside, "And we'll call the police on all of you."

The bad guys ran to the window. "You ain't getting' away that easy!" Larry yelled down, "Come on Bo, we're getting' them!"

"I don't know, Larry," Bo whimpered at the distance to the ground. He hated heights. "Can't we just go back downstairs?"

"And go through all that nonsense again? You might be that dumb, Bo, but I ain't," Larry chided him, "Now come on!"

Down below, Jenny yanked Kermit and Piggy out of the snow bank they'd landed in. "I think you still should have used the paper towels," she told them.

"Hands!" Piggy slapped hers away.

"Did I miss anything?" Rizzo stuck his head out the basement window.

"Not really," Gonzo informed him, "We just left them with the diamond; they're still coming after us swearing eternal vengeance. No big deal."

"Hey wait a minute, are those what I think they are?" Sarah asked Rizzo, pointing at a box next to them. Rizzo looked inside and shuddered. "Oh yeah, believe me," he said meekly, Why?"

"I have an idea," the teenager smiled.

Above them, Bo whimpered like a baby as he climbed out on the paper towels and started following Larry down toward the ground. "Shut it, Bo!" his partner yelled at him, "What're ya, chicken?"

Bo whimpered louder, his eyes tightly shut. "Will you act your age?" the Snake derided him as the Riverbottomers followed him down on the paper towels, "You give us toughs a bad name!"

"Hang on a second," the Pop-Eyed Catfish squinted down on the ground, "It looks like they're doing something down there. In fact it sort of looks like they've got…OH NO!"

It was at that moment Piggy was striking a match. "So long suckers!" she called up toward the attic and held the flame to the paper towels. Within five seconds the fire burned up the entire length of the roll, leaving the bad guys suspended for the briefest of seconds in midair. Then they fell screaming at the top of their lungs three stories to the ground—landing on several mousetraps that had been set up. The snapping of the traps coupled with their screams of pain echoed all throughout the snowy hills. "Nice thinking," Kermit hopped up in the air to pat Sarah on the back, "Effective but not sadistic. All right, let's get out of here."

Everyone turned…and found themselves facing a multiple-barreled rocket launcher. "Going somewhere, frog?" Hopper snickered, his finger firmly on the trigger, "Did you honestly think we wouldn't come expecting you to try and run for it?"

"Uh, it doesn't matter, Hopper," Fozzie said quickly, "We've already called the cops, and everyone else has already left."

"Move, move, move!" came the shouts as McMooch and the two remaining farmers pushed the rest of the party at rocket point toward them. "Well, it WAS a good plan," Smiley asided to Kermit as they were all merged together and pushed back against the farmhouse. Bitterman strode over to where the Dry Bandits and Riverbottom Gang lay covered in mousetraps. "Well, tell me you at least got the diamond for all your trouble?" she demanded.

"Right here," the Weasel handed it to her. Bitterman eyed it greedily. "Well, get over there and help shoot them all now," she ordered them, "I want them all to suffer for this."

"Happily," Larry led the dazed and very upset thugs over to the group of Muppets and cocked his weapon. "Come on, Ms. Bitterman," Kermit tried one last chance to talk reason into her and the others, "Think this over, would you really get anything from killing all of us? Ask yourself; do you really want to commit cold-blooded murder just for a hard lump of coal?"

"This, a lump of coal?" the businesswoman shoved the diamond in the frog's face, "This is prestige, frog! This is saying I can control everyone! That's what I've wanted, and that's what I'm going to get!"

"What WE'RE going to get," Hopper corrected her, "Stiff me and I take it all."

"And you, Hopper," Kermit upbraided his old foe, "Hiring these cutthroats to terrorize innocent women and children, dragging them into your schemes when they just wanted to enjoy Christmas Eve. It looks like I was wrong when I said I didn't think you were a bad man."

"There's still one way out of this for you, frog," Hopper informed him, "You agree this time to do my commercials, and they all walk out of here unharmed. If not, this'll be a bloodbath like you can't imagine."

"And what makes you think you can play games with people's lives like this, Hopper?" Kermit had to know.

"Because we're still armed and you're not," the restaurateur mocked him, "So what's less painful to you: thousands of frogs on crutches, as you say, or all your friends in pine boxes? You've got ten seconds to decide."

Kermit's head sagged as he thought over this dilemma. He looked upwards with tears in his eyes. "I'm sorry Jim," he said softly, "I'm going to have to go back on my word."

"Huh?" Hopper asked him.

"It's no deal, Hopper," Kermit put an arm around Robin, "I die with my friends. I can't knowingly compromise my morals just to…"

"You know, you're even more stupid than I thought, frog," Bitterman derided him, "You and these idiotic weirdoes have got nothing right now. The Doc here just offered you your last chance at greatness, and you threw it away just like the fool your and your guardian angel Henson is. Your better days are long behind you, and you've got no future because nobody cares about you washed-up has-beens anymore. You're nothing, zero, zip…"

"No they're not!" came an upset shout from the back of the crowd, "It's you guys who're the nothings!"

"What?" Bitterman shoved the crowds aside. She bent down with a furious expression over Christine. "How dare you talk to me that way, you filthy urchin!" she shouted, "I own one of the world largest conglomerates! I'm one of the most powerful people on this planet!"

"And you're still a loser!" Zachary added to his sister, "All you can care about is money! Kermit cares about others! He's more powerful than you'll ever be!"

"They're absolutely right," Alan strode up to Bitterman, looking enraged, "My children are a lot smarter than you, woman. These people know how to help those in need. They've done a heck of a lot for me tonight, more than you and your fat frog killer over there ever have. Because I know now that it never matters how much money you've got, it's what's inside that always matters most. You can kill us all if you want, but we'll still be alive and well for anyone who wants to seek us out. Just like they already are to millions of people around the world. Just like Jim Henson still is. And before I finish this," he slapped Bitterman hard across the face, "Don't EVER insult my daughter like that again if you know what's good for you!"

"Good, nice comeback for them," Gonzo asided to Camilla, "That's the good way to get them back into this story."

Glaring at him, Bitterman stepped backwards toward her allies. "Kill them first!" she ordered.

"With deep pleasure," Hopper and the others raised their shotguns at the Reisers…


	12. Bedtime

The guns fired, and the bullets came at Alan in slow motion…or was it because something was holding them back? He glanced over Hopper's shoulders to see Yoda mentally holding the ammunition in midair. "Harm the innocents you will not!" the creature grunted defiantly.

"Oh really?" Bitterman snorted, "Well, let's see just how much your magic tricks can handle. Full salvoes, everyone!"

All of the bad guys fired at once and repeatedly, leaving several dozen projectiles now suspended in midair. Yoda strained harder to hold them all back…

"Excuse me," someone tapped McMooch on the shoulder just before he could fire off his bazooka for what might have been the final, fatal time. Before McMooch had even turned around, Cantus had picked him up and pile-driven him into the ground. The Minstrel then flipped through the air to the incredulousness of all watching and landed right on the Weasel's shoulders. The Weasel grabbed a lead pipe conveniently lying nearby and swung at Cantus, but managed only to smack himself in the face. Cantus leaped off and started delivering combination blows to his foe's chest that sent him reeling to the ground. He then ducked as the Lizard charged at him with a knife, then grabbed the reptile by the tail and swung him around over his head like a shot put. He let go, and the Lizard slammed hard into the side of the farmhouse. Hardly winded at all, Cantus turned to the rest of his group, whose mouths were all hanging open in shock. "Please forgive me," he told them, "They made me lose my implacable calm."

"And now it's time I lost mine: HIIIIIIIIIIIYYYYAAAAAAAA!' with a look of carnal rage plastered on her face, Piggy lunged forward. In quick fashion she karate-chopped both Sledge and Stiles senseless. "HIIIIIIIIITAAAAAAAAAEEE!" she roared, delivering a severe blow to Larry as he lunged forward with his hands in a strangling position. She followed it up with a kick to his face that sent him sprawling. "Hit my hand," she told Bo as he charged forward, holding it out for his benefit. Bo stupidly complied and received a hard blow to the skull as Piggy's hand rebounded around onto his head. She then jumped on top of him and started biting his arm. "HEEELLPP!" the crook screamed.

"Offa him!" Chuck grabbed Piggy's hair and yanked her off Bo. Piggy turned very slowly toward him. If there's one thing I hate it's people who MESS WITH THE PERM!" she bellowed, "HIIIIIIIIIIIYAAAAA!"

Chuck became the latest victim of her karate chopping. Roaring, he swung his claws at her, but was forced to retreat as Piggy picked up the Snake and used it as a whip against Chuck, who finally keeled over with a stunned look on his face. "Gimme some aspirin while you're out, Chuck," moaned the thoroughly dazed Snake, "I've got a whopper of a headache just now."

Piggy flung the Snake at the Pop-Eyed Catfish's glass, sending the latter flying into the snow, where the pig then started giving the fish more karate chops. Perhaps mercifully for the villains, it was at this point that the roar of police sirens filled the night air. No few than four dozen cruisers pulled up onto the front yard. "Everyone freeze!" several officers shouted at once as they ran forward, weapons drawn. "Thank God, we got the phone lines up," Scooter breathed.

"What phone lines?" remarked the sergeant, "We got a disturbing the peace call from the neighbors. What's been going on here?"

"Oh thank God you're here, officers," Bitterman tried to sweet-talk to them, "They were just about to kill us before you got…"

'Arrest us please!" Bo through himself into the lead sergeant's arms, "I confess, we stole the Baseball Diamond, she's got it in her coat pocket. Take us away! I love jail, I've never loved it more!"

"Shut up Bo!" Larry bellowed, kicking his partner, "Ever heard of the right to remain silent!?"

"Don't move, Hopper!" one of the officers shouted, holding his firearm on the restaurateur as he tried to sneak away in the confusion. "Max?" Hopper gasped at the sight of him, "What are you doing here?"

"Oh, I decided I needed to redeem myself for some mistakes I made," Max had a more than satisfied look on his face as he pulled Hopper's hands behind his back and handcuffed him, "You're under arrest, Doc."

"Max, how could you do this to me?" Hopper whined, "After everything I did for you?"

"Take this slime downtown," Max hauled his former boss to several more officers standing by a cruiser. He approached the Muppets against the farmhouse. "Are any of you guys hurt?" he asked.

There was a clatter as all the bullets Yoda had been holding in midair clattered to the ground. The Jedi Master took several deep breaths to regain his composure. "Not at all, thankfully," he breathed, "Only they who perpetrated this are. Should have known they should that those who try to hurt others only themselves hurt."

"Take your hands off me, you fool, I'm worth a billion dollars!" Bitterman was screaming at the officer arresting her. "This is not over yet, frog!" she shouted at Kermit as she was dragged away, "I'll get even with each and every one of you for this!"

"Ah, why bother?" the Weasel asked, "It's all over; we're going to get buried for this!"

"Well remember, if this makes the papers, we're the Dry Bandits, got it?" Bo asked the cops, "D-R-I-E…."

"SHUT UP, BO!" everyone around him kicked him as they were all loaded into a cruiser. "Well, good riddance to bad rubbish, I say," Emily commented as their foes were towed off into the night.

"Indeed," Kermit nodded. He trudged through the snowdrifts toward the Reisers. I appreciate what you said a moment ago," he told them, "That really does mean a lot to me and all of us."

"Well I know now it's true," Alan told the frog, "We are wealthier than those creeps are. And you've given us all more tonight than we could have ever hoped for."

Before the conversation could go any further, the snow began falling harder than ever. "Whoa boy," the sergeant exclaimed, holding out his hand, "Here comes that last wave. They said this would be the worst batch of the storm. We'd best get out of here while we can."

"Uh Sarge?" Max took out his gun and handed it to the sergeant, "Actually I'd like to stay here with these people. I know them from several years back, and I feel I owe them something. That is, if it's OK with them," he gave the Muppets a hopeful look.

"Sure it's OK, but so you know you'll probably have to sleep hung on a coat hook inside the basement door, since we're out of room again," Emily informed him. Max thought it over and shrugged. "Well, it's better than having stale fruitcake with my mother-in-law," he reasoned.

"Well then, why are we standing out here in this blizzard," Kermit reasoned, "We've still got a house to clean up and songs to sing, so let's make our statements and finish celebrating the evening."

* * *

A half hour later, as the storm now raged harder than ever, the house had been cleaned up miraculously to where it was almost as it had been before the home invasion had begun, right down to the spare front door that had somehow been available in the basement for them to set up. A brand new Christmas tree pushed down by Earl now stood in the corner with its lights glowing bright in the darkness of the den. Seemingly hundreds of special guests were now packed inside, all now listening to Susan singing on stage with several of the children. "Children carry through the street a brightly-painted star," she was singing, "Angels gather 'round the hearth strumming on guitars. Men of great renown and faith sing prayers on boulevards. It's the night before Christmas…"

"But you don't have to be an angel to sing harmony," the children joined her for the next verse, "And you don't have to be a child to love the mystery. And you don't have to be a wise man on bended knee. The heart of this Christmas is in you and me."

"Well Charlene, now are you glad you came?" Fran asked her daughter on the couch.

"I guess so, Mom," Charlene shrugged, "I still wish it was a lot warmer than this, but…"

"But we still had to hear about it just one more time," Robbie rolled his eyes, "It's a shame Mr. Hess had to sleep through it all."

He gestured at Roy, still snoring away soundly all these hours later. "YAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRR!" Scred popped up and screamed in the dinosaur's ear. Roy remained sound asleep. "Incredible," the alien mused, "What was the point of even bringing him here? Oh well, it's his problem if he misses out on the fun."

"And this is a nice change from the monotony of space," Ploobis agreed, "For once I'm enjoying something."

"Enjoying it as much as your time with Vazh in the broom closet during the hyperspace where you were rolling around on the floor and…?" Scred abruptly blurted out.

"SCRED!" Ploobis glared at his vassal, "It's time you saw a phrenologist!"

"Phrenologist, your majesty?"

"The people who measure the bumps on your head!"

"But I don't have any bumps on my head, your highness," Scred pointed out. Ploobis seized the piñata bat and beat Scred over the head with it. "You do now!" he snarled.

While Scred howled in misery, there was wide applause as the song ended. "Thank you," Susan made a courteous bow, "But that's not all. Gordon's got his own song for you all."

Gordon approached Rowlf's piano as the dog started playing the song. "'Come,' they told me, pa-rum-bum-bum-bum," the human and dog sang together, "Our newborn king to see, pa-rum-bum-bum-bum. Our finest gifts we bring, pa-rum-bum-bum-bum. To set before the king, pa-rum-bum-bum-bum, rum-bum-bum-bum, rum-bum-bum-bum. So to honor him, pa-rum-bum-bum-bum. When we come."

"Peace on Earth," Gordon sang in a deep tenor while Rowlf continued with the regular Little Drummer Boy lyrics, "Can it be? Years from now, perhaps we'll see. See the day of glory, see the day when men of goodwill live in peace, live in peace again. Peace on Earth; can it be?"

"Every child must be made aware," the two of them sang together again, "Every child must be made to care. Care enough for his fellow man. To give all the love that he can."

"I pray my wish will come true," Gordon took the solo again, "For my child, and your child too. We'll see the day of glory. See the day when men of goodwill live in peace live in peace again. Peace on Earth; can it be?" Rowlf played out the final few notes, then chimed in with Gordon on the final, "Can it be?"

"You know, this is really incongruous," Waldorf asided to Statler, "Singing these innocent songs after having smashed the bad guys up."

"Well, there is one piece of good news with all this," Statler said.

"You just saved a ton on your car insurance by switching to Geico?" Waldorf inquired.

"No, the story's almost over," Statler told him.

Harvey was the next to take the stand. "And now folks, for your pleasure, the song that made us the biggest hit to ever play the Riverside Rest," he announced, "Mrs. Otter?"

Alice took center stage. "We're closer now than ever before," she sang.

"How much alike we are; we may be long-lost brothers," her son and his band added on backup.

"There's love in our world and we're showing it more," Alice put a warm arm around Emmett as he sang "We even think the same; you know there may be others." "Our world says, 'Welcome Stranger;' everybody's a friend," she started the refrain, book ended by "Everyone could use a friend." "Favorite stories don't end in our world."

In his armchair, Doc Bullfrog rocked back and forth in rhythm with the music. "Hiring them was the best choice I ever made," he told his nephew and grandnephew.

"Yep, from that day on, life has been better along the river," Kermit said, "There, now I've said it again just in case future generations don't know." He joined everyone else in the room (as well as the large monsters and penguins and forest animals still visible singing with them outside the window despite the brutally blowing snow) with the final verse: "When night looks sad upon you, go and watch a perfect sunrise. Love can open your eyes in our world."

"Me next again, me, me!" Piggy eagerly jumped up on stage.

"Oh God, not again!" Floyd Pepper groaned.

"KNOCK IT OFF!" Piggy glared at him. She took hold of the microphone again. "Greeting cards have all been sent, the Christmas rush is through," she crooned, "But I still have a wish to make, a special one for you. Merry Christmas darling. We're apart, that's true. But I can dream, and in my dreams I'm Christmasing with you. Holidays are joyful, there's always something new. But every day's a holiday when I'm here with you."

"The lights on my tree," Gonzo leaped up on stage and joined in, which for whatever reason Piggy did not object to, "I wish you could see, I wish it every day."

"The log on the fire fills me with desire," added Fozzie, "To see you and to say that I wish you merry Christmas…"

"Merry Christmas darling," sang everyone in the room.

"Happy New Year too," Piggy picked back up, "I've just one wish on this Christmas Eve, I wish I were with you."

She leaped down and snuggled up against Kermit, who let her. The moment, the frog felt, was too good to ruin. "Merry Christmas, Piggy," he told her.

"Merry Christmas Kermie," Piggy leaned toward him again with lips puckered. Kermit quickly slid away from the kiss and crawled along the floor to where the children were listening to the music now. "You really don't want her to kiss you, do you?" Zachary asked him.

"The thing is, Zack, if I let her do that, she'll be whipped into a frenzy and go a lot further," Kermit explained, "You have to be around her a long time to really understand." He waved at the stage. "I'd like to do a special one next, Hoots," he called to the owl, who flew over and dropped the microphone into his flipper. "This is a special one for you two," he told the Reisers.

"Really?" Christine was impressed.

"Really," Kermit nodded. He put both flippers around the two of them as the song began with a pipe solo from Cantus. "I don't know if you believe in Christmas," he sang, "Or if you've had presents underneath the Christmas tree. But if you believe in love, it will be more than enough for you to come and celebrate with me. For I have held the precious gift that love brings, even though I never saw a Christmas star. I know there is a light, I have felt it burn inside, and I have seen it shining from afar."

"Christmas is a time to come together," everyone in the room and outside the window sang, "A time to put all differences aside."

"And I reach out my hand," Kermit extended them to Alan behind him, "to the family of man, to share the joy I feel at Christmastime."

He glanced up at the tree in its entire splendor. "For the truth that binds us all together," he continued, "I would like to say a simple prayer. That at this special time you will have true peace of mind, and peace to last throughout the coming years."

"I don't think so, Kermit," Zachary told him, "There's just too much to worry about day-to-day."

"True, there is, but just because there probably never will be complete happiness for any of us doesn't mean we can't still dream of it when we feel bad," the frog said, "It does really help you feel better. And if you believe in love," he started singing again, "that will be more than enough for peace to last throughout the coming years."

"And peace on earth will last the coming years," everyone finished the song with him. Strong applause greeted the end of this number. "Bravo, lizard," Emily told him, "Truly the best one tonight."

"FROG!" Kermit rolled his eyes. "Well, if we're all through now…"

"Actually Kermit," Alan raised his hand behind him, "I'd like to do one before we pack up for the night."

"I thought you didn't like singing Christmas songs?" Scooter inquired.

"That was earlier," the man said, "I have a new outlook on the holidays now. And this is my way of saying thanks to you and everyone here for taking us in when we were lost—in more ways than one."

He walked up on stage. "I'd like you to play…" he started to tell Cantus.

"Say no more," Cantus started playing his magic pipe immediately. Alan was amazed how the Minstrel could have known his exact song, but that was now irrelevant. "The season is upon us now, the time for gifts and giving," he sang, "And as the year draws to a close, I think about my living. The Christmastime when I was young, the magic and the wonder, but colors dull and candles dim, and dark my standing under. Oh little angels, shining light. You've set my soul to dreaming, you've given back my joy in life; you've filled me with new meaning." After giving Cantus another pipe solo, he continued, "A savior king was born that day, a baby just like you, and as the magi came with gifts, I come with my gifts too. That peace on earth fills up your time, that brotherhood surrounds you. That you may know the warmth of love, and wrap it all around you. It's just a wish, a dream I'm told, from days when I was young. Merry Christmas Christine and Zachary, merry Christmas everyone."

"Merry Christmas Christine and Zachary," finished everyone else, "Merry Christmas everyone." There were visible tears of joy in the children's eyes as the final notes flew from Cantus's pipe. The song received an outright standing ovation from everyone. "Very impressive," Cantus gave Alan a reassuring past on the shoulder, "As Yoda said, you are a wealthy man."

"Well, it's almost eleven now," Emily glanced at the clock, "We'd better all get to bed if we want Santa to come drop stuff off for us."

"All aboard for bed," Seymour the elephant stuck his head out of the elevator door. Slowly groups of Muppets filed toward the elevator and a nice warm bed. In the meantime, the toys resumed their places under the tree, Yoda lay down on the radiator, and the five main Fraggles walked into a large dollhousenear the tree that they'd agreed to spend the night in (while the scores of other Fraggles that had come up from the Rock to listen to the music earlier in the evening shuffled back down the basement stairs towards the Fraggle hole). Wembley immediately climbed out the dollhouse's window and onto the roof. "Wembley, what do you think you're doing up there?" Gobo leaned out the window after him.

"I'm going to meet this Santa firsthand," Wembley declared, "If he's everything people say he is, I think I'm going to get some good things."

"OK, if you really want to," Gobo shrugged, "But it'll be a cold one out there once the fireplace dies out."

He backed away but left the window open. Outside, the forest animals could be seen retreating to the woods as the blizzard grew worse, and the large monsters and Snuffleupagus trudged toward the relative warmth of the barn. Soon the room was almost empty except for the dogs, now joined by Rowlf, continuing their poker game. With the band packed up for the night, Johnny Fiama took the stage alone and started crooning-off-kilter—"Winter Wonderland." Alan grimaced at how bad the singer's tune was—although he had noticed Fiama had been in a closet with Scred earlier doing who knew what. "Well," he said, picking up his children from the floor, "What do you say we turn in before Santa gets here."

"I'm still good for a while, Daddy," Christine protested, but she was unable to suppress a loud yawn. He father picked he up gently and carried her toward the elevator. The Otters were in the car with them as Seymour threw the Up switch. "That was mighty fine singing there, sir," Alice commended Alan, "And it was especially nice of you to dedicate it to all of us."

"Well, like I said, you and the others did so much for us today," Alan said, "I couldn't think of any other way to repay you."

"Say Ma, do you think they could get a place at the Riverside Rest with us?" Emmett asked her, "Kermit said they could use a steady job."

"Well, they could, Emmett, although I don't know how Doc Bullfrog's payroll would hold out," Alice mused, "Actually, there are other places I know that could use…"

There was a bump as the elevator lurched to an abrupt stop, sending everyone tumbling to the floor. "Whoops, forgot about that part," Seymour shrugged, "But here's your floor, anyway."

He opened the door. Everyone crawled out, cringing at the sound of inordinately loud music blaring from the bathroom. Alan opened the door to see several more penguins throwing themselves in the air and marching around the tub while "Tubthumping" blared on a large Walkman. "We get knocked down," they all were quacking, "But we get up again; they ain't never gonna keep us down."

"Well, not everyone can be a great singer," Emmett mused over the human's shoulder, shaking his head at the penguins.

"I guess not, "Alan shrugged. Then he noticed a familiar face standing in the doorway of what was apparently his own room for the night, frowning at the penguins' loud antics as well. "Oh Mr. Crystal," he called out to Doc, "I've been thinking, you don't have to pay me back if you don't really have the money."

"Really?" Doc looked amazed, "After all those letters you kept sending me about how you were broke and…"

"If you're in just as dire straits, there'd be no point in me making things worse for you," Alan told him, "And besides it's Christmas."

"Well , that's very nice of you," Doc grinned, "As a matter of fact, the next invention Sprocket and I come up with that you're interested in, just send in the receipt from the catalog and I'll give it to you free of charge."

"You really will?" Christine asked him as she and her brother came up alongside their father.

"Absolutely," Doc said, "If I had customers nearly a good as you, I wouldn't have…"

Alan grunted softly and made a gesturing motion with his finger. Doc took note of a package lying open partially under his bed—a package of a red fabric with white fur trimming plainly visible. He clicked softly at Sprocket and made a gesturing motion with his head. Well, best get off to sleep," he said, pushing his door partially closed while Sprocket nosed the package out of sight before either of the children could notice, "I don't think we want to be awake when Santa gets here with the presents."

"You have a good night's sleep too, Mr. Crystal," Alan waved good night to him.

"Yeah, I wonder what Santa's bringing all of us?" Zachary mused as they continued down the hall to their own room.

"Oh, so now you believe in him again?" his father asked him.

"Well, now he seems a little more real, like he used to," the boy admitted, "I guess I believe in a lot of things again now."

"So do I," Alan admitted himself, "And I know that Mom's here with us even if she can't make it in person," he glanced at the window pounding against the room window, "She'll always be with us as long as we love her. I know that much now."

He pulled the Murphy bed down from the wall and helped his children up into it. "So did you have a good day all in all?" he asked them as he climbed in as well.

"Very much so," Christine yawned again, "And I thought it was going to be a terrible day, but then it turned out to be…"

Suddenly, without warning, the bed sprung back up into the wall. "Oh, this is good," Zachary remarked, "Now we can't even turn out the light."

There was a crashing sound as the light fell to the ground and shattered off. "Light's off," Alan commented, "Sleep well you two."

He hugged them close as he closed his eyes, ready to enjoy the most restful sleep he'd had in a long time.


	13. A Happy Holiday Ending

Kermit exhaled softly as he woke up. He glanced sleepily out the window of the front bedroom. The faintest traces of light were creeping into the morning sky (along with the sound of T.R. crowing from the barn), but it was clear the snow was still blowing in thick waves. One thing was for sure; it looked like none of them would be going anywhere for the next few days. Hopefully the extra food they'd picked up would be enough to hold them all over.

There was another soft whimper as Robin stirred in his arms. Kermit rubbed his nephew on the head. "Merry Christmas, Robin," he whispered softly.

"Merry Christmas, Uncle Kermit," Robin opened an eye part-way, "What time is it?"

"Way too early," Fozzie remarked loudly from the reclining rocker near the window, "I think it's…"

"Shhhhh!" Kermit raised a flipper to his lips, "People are still asleep!"

"Do you hear that?" Robin asked suddenly. There was the unmistakable sound from downstairs of a key turning in the back door. "That's strange," Kermit leaped out of bed, a worried look on his face, "I thought we were all inside for the night? Who would be coming inside?"

"Maybe it's Peter with the Folgers to wake us all up," Fozzie proposed. Kermit gave him a strained look. "Well, there's only one way to find out," he proposed, cracking open the door, "Stay close to me in case this gets ugly."

The three of them tiptoed down the hall and the stairs. The entire house was quiet apart from the loud snores of everyone sleeping on the lower levels. Below in the den, the snores came especially loud from the Gorch residents, who lay in a heap by the fireplace with empty alcohol bottles in their hands (Scred mumbling all the while under his breath, "Tell your friend Veronica it's time to celebrate Hanukkah. Drink your gin and tonica, but don't smoke marijuanica…"). "Over there," Fozzie whispered, pointing at a sudden bit of movement behind the television. The bear crept forward and jumped on top of the intruder. "Gotcha!" he roared.

"Ho ho ho, merry Christmas Fozzie Bear!" the intruder turned out to be none other than Saint Nicolas, looking quite dusty with soot on his uniform, "Oh, merry Christmas, Santa," Kermit breathed a sigh of relief that it wasn't someone worse, "You know, you're a bit early."

"Early?" Fozzie frowned, "I wouldn't call Christmas morning early for this man, Kermit."

Kermit leaned in close to the bear once he was sure Robin was preoccupied talking to the Claus. "Uh Fozzie, Doc brought the suit again," he whispered, "He was going to be here when the children woke up to give them all their presents; Bob and Linda gave him all their names so he could do it individually."

"Oh I see," Fozzie snapped his paws. "Hey Santa," he approached their visitor, "Did you bring me anything for a hopeful comedian?"

"Take a look under the tree, Fozzie, and see for yourself," "Santa" pointed at the tree. Everyone was taken aback by the sea of new presents underneath it that hadn't been there the previous evening. "Wow!" Robin exclaimed, rushing toward it and unwrapping several gifts with his name on it, "This is incredible, isn't it Uncle Kermit?"

"Absolutely Robin," Kermit nodded, asiding to himself quietly, "Poor Doc, he'll be in permanent receivership after having bought all this."

"Hey what's going on in here?" Piggy, green facial gel sprayed on her face, entered the living room.

"Merry Christmas, Miss Piggy," the Claus greeted her, "I wasn't able to process your entire list, but I know Kermit here has something special for you."

"Uh, yeah," Kermit reached into his robe pocket and extracted the present he'd picked up and Jenny's store the previous evening. "I got this especially for you, Piggy," he told her, "This is why I…"

Piggy snatched it off him and tore off the wrapper. "A diamond-encrusted pig-design necklace!" she gasped in delight.

"Well I knew you were looking through the catalogs and…" Kermit didn't get a chance to finish, as Piggy started shrieking in absolute delight and smothered him with over-the-top kisses. "Oh Kermie, thank you, thank you, thank you!" she screamed loud enough to shatter every window in the farmhouse.

"Well, it looks as if I should be on my way," "Santa," glanced at the clock on the wall, "I've still got much to do before my work's done, but once you get to look around at what else I've brought for you, you'll all be quite happy. "Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good, er, morning."

He walked to the chimney and rose up it almost as if by magic. "Amazing," Fozzie glanced up it after him, "How did he do that?"

Kermit pried himself loose from Piggy. "Well Fozzie, you know Doc, always an incredible device up his sleeve," the frog remarked.

"What about me?" came Doc's voice from behind them. The inventor and Sprocket were standing at the foot of the stairs in their pajamas. "Oh, that was sure a quick change, Doc," Kermit told him, "that was nice of you to bring all those gifts, even though it probably cost you a fortune."

"What gifts?" Doc was completely puzzled, "Sprocket and I were sound asleep until about three minutes ago. We just came down to the bathroom to get a drink of water; we would have gone right back to bed if the pig here hadn't started shouting."

You mean…?" Kermit's eyes shot back and forth between the inventor and the chimney, "But if it wasn't you, then who…?"

He ran to the chimney and glanced up it. "Nah," he shrugged, "It couldn't have been him."

"Ho ho ho, merry Christmas!" came a distant cry over the sounds of sleigh bells jingling. Everyone glanced upward at the ceiling. "Could it?" Kermit partially corrected himself.

"Hey Kermit, guys?" came Max's voice from inside the kitchen where he had been hung up inside the basement door, "I think you'd better take a look what Kris Kringle left in here."

"What?" Kermit pushed the door open. His jaw dropped when he saw what Max was talking about. "I don't believe it!" he exclaimed.

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"Daddy," Alan felt Christine's arm nudging against his. He opened his eyes from a restful night's sleep. "What's going on?" he asked sleepily.

"Listen," the girl pointed in the direction of the ceiling (as they were still reclined into the wall, everything was absolute pitch black). The hotel's intercom system was buzzing to life. "Ladies and gentlemen," Fozzie announced over it, "For your Christmas morning wakeup call, we've got a special treat for you. Kermit?"

"Was I dumb, or was I blind?" Kermit sang over the intercom, "Or did my heart just lose its mind? Why'd I go and throw our perfect dream away?"

"Looking back I'll never know," Piggy joined in with him, "Why I ever let you go. But destiny can see we deserve to have another day."

"What's the singing for?" Zachary woke up as well.

"I don't know, but there's one way we can find out," Alan stood upright and pushed at the bed until it fell back down into the room with a low thump. There was already a stream of guests heading down the stairs toward the actual farmhouse (with clumps of people gathered around the elevator, it was clear that was going to just be a bottleneck. "Do you know what's going on here?" Alan asked Grover as he passed him on the ninth floor landing.

"You're guess would be as good as mine," Grover told him, "There was no mention of a wakeup call, or why we need it."

It was then at that moment that a new voice came over the loudspeaker. "Now I know that life can take you by surprise and sweep you off your feet…" she sang tentatively. Alan's heart leaped. It couldn't possibly be…

Time and space seemed to stand still as he barreled down the remaining stairs, unknowingly pushing people aside as he went. He slammed open the lobby door in a rush, accidentally knocking Elmo cold. "Alicia!" he shouted in absolute delight. It was impossible. But there was his wife at the other end of the den, a huge smile on her face to match his. They ran into each other's arms, fittingly, just as the music playing on the record near the intercom reached its crescendo. "Love led us here," Kermit and Piggy sang together as they embraced, "Right back to where we belong. We followed the star and here we are; now heaven seems so near. Love led us here."

"Mommy!" the children finally caught up with their father and hugged their mother hard. "You made it!" Christine breathed happily between deep tears of joy, "How did you get here?"

"I actually don't know, pumpkin," Alicia gave her daughter a strong kiss on the cheek, "One moment I was falling asleep in Los Angeles, and the next I'm waking up here in the kitchen of this place. It's a genuine miracle!"

"It was Santa," Robin told her over the din of the other guests filing into the den and gasping surprise at the latest arrival, "He must have picked you up while you were asleep and flown you here."

"So take her hand," Kermit, finishing up the song, pushed the couple's hands together.

"And have no fear," Piggy leaned her head into their chest.

"You'll be all right," everyone else finished with them, "Love led you here."

"Santa was here?" Wembley awoke with a start on the top of the dollhouse, "Drat, I missed him!"

"Well it looks like he didn't miss you guys; take a look!" Rizzo pointed at several stacks of presents clearly marked with TO BOOBER, TO RED, and so forth in the tree's near corner. "Wowee, we've got presents!" Gobo led his friends on an excited charge to the tree. "Are those Fraggles?" Alicia stared down at them in wonder.

"Yes, and I know they're not pessimistic at all," Alan gave her a kiss of his own. "Oh, this is the perfect capper to what turned out to be a perfect holiday."

"And guess what Mom," Zachary climbed up into her arms, "I got to play hockey again last night."

"You did?" she rubbed his hair affectionately, "I'm so proud for you. I'm glad you're coming out of your shell again."

"Well, I'm starting to realize that life does move on," the boy told her, "And I really don't want to get left behind at all."

"Well just look at us," Alan put an arm around his entire family, "It's Christmas Day, and we're all flat broke and with no jobs…and we've all got each other I don't think any other family could be wealthier."

"Still," Doc Bullfrog hobbled forward on his cane, "It would be a shame to see such nice people in the unemployment line. Mr. Reiser, seeing how well you can cook, how'd you like a job with the Riverside Rest's culinary staff?"

"Really?" Alan's jaw dropped at this remarkable turn of events.

"Well of course," the bullfrog told him, "As Mrs. Otter and her son can tell you, it is Christmas, the time for charity."

"And uh, Mrs. Reiser," Kermit approached Alicia, "We're always looking for new people to help as well. We have been in need of a new marketing director for our production company for a while now. From what your husband here told me of your background, you'd fit the bill perfectly. We'd also provide you with free transportation so you won't have to be apart from your family again. What do you say?"

The Reisers stared at each other in mute excitement. "I guess that's a yes," the frog nodded, "You can start after the holidays; we'll pay you time and a half."

The family embraced in happy delight at their sudden rise from squalor. Apparently everyone else in the room found the situation uplifting, as they broke into loud applause. "Come on, let's go home and really celebrate," Alan told his wife.

"But the snow," Alicia stared hesitantly out the window, "It's too thick to drive."

"Not to worry,' Emily stepped forward, "You can use my sleigh like your man here did last night."

"But what could last for as long as we need to in snowdrifts like those?" the woman had to know.

The front door slid open, a snuffle around the knob. "Allow me," Snuffleupagus proposed, "I can shoulder any burden in this kind of weather."

"Sounds great, Snuffleupagus," Kermit nodded, "It looks like you did come in handy after all here. All right, let's help get the Reisers' stuff together so they can go home in style. And before they go, let's send them off in style. Play the old favorite, Rowlf," he told the dog, who had been leaning against the piano.

"Right," Rowlf tapped out the opening notes of the latest song. "There was a peaceful town called Rock Ridge…" he crooned.

"No, no, not that one!" Kermit protested, "The OTHER one!"

"I was just kidding there," Rowlf grinned at him. He returned to the real song he had in mind. "When Christmastime is over and presents put away, don't be sad," he sang, "There'll be so much to treasure about this Christmas day, and the fun we've had. So many happy feelings to celebrate with you, and oh, the good times hurry by so fast. But even when it's over, there's something you can do to make Christmas last."

"Keep Christmas with you all through the year," everyone else joined in, "When Christmas is over, you can keep it near. Think of this Christmas day when Christmas is far away. Keep Christmas with you all through the year. When Christmas is over, save some Christmas cheer. These precious moments, hold them very dear, and keep Christmas with you all through the year."

"Has anyone seen my earmuffs," Christine announced, glancing around for them.

"Here they are," Kermit handed them to her, "And listen, Christine, if you want somebody there when…well, the time comes, I'll be there for you."

"Thanks Kermit," she gave him a final hug. "Goodbye, thanks for having us here," she waved to the others.

"Christmas means the spirit of giving," Mokey picked the song back up as she waved goodbye to them, "Peace and joy to you."

"The goodness of loving, the gladness of living," Gobo took the next verse, "These are Christmas too."

"So keep Christmas with you all through the year," everyone followed the Reisers to the door and waved as they stepped into the sleigh, Beauregard at the reins, "When Christmas is over, save some Christmas cheer. These precious moments, hold them very dear, and keep Christmas with you all through the year. Yes, keep Christmas with you all through the year."

"Hey look up there," Scooter pointed at the sky. Incredible as it may have seemed, a rainbow was now visible through a break in the clouds as the sun rose up in the east. "Of all the cheap, corny endings!" Oscar groused unhappily at the sight of it, "Sheesh, if they added any more sugar to this conclusion, we'd all have upset stomachs!"

"Maybe," Kermit told the grouch just before he slammed the lid on his can shut to avoid hearing the coming lecture, "But if we didn't have happy endings like this, the world would be a sadder place."

He glanced up in awe at the rainbow. "Why are there so many songs about rainbows?" the song welled up from inside him.

"That's part of what rainbows do," Fozzie leaned against the frog.

"Rainbows are memories," chimed in Gonzo.

"Sweetly reminders," crooned Piggy, "True love will always come through."

"All of us wish you the happiest Christmas," joined in the Electric Mayhem and Jug Band.

"And a happy New Year too," Big Bird added.

"Today you've found it, the Rainbow Connection," every Muppet waved goodbye as the sleigh drove off, "The lovers, the dreamers and…"

A strangled cry broke off the song as Sam plummeted from the attic window, landing headfirst in the snow. "You funny!" the baby called down at him, "Come back up; I throw you out again."

Sam let out a bloodcurdling shriek of terror. "Help me!" he shrieked, completely losing his cool for once. He ran up the road after the Reisers' sleigh. "Don't leave me here with this child!" he cried out, "Wait for me!"

His screams were soon eclipsed by that of Pepe's who was still after all this time running from the Swedish Chef. The prawn was soon flat against the house as the Chef advanced on him. "Byen byen," he remarked.

"I think not, OK," Pepe now looked strangely confident.

"Oon?"

"Say hello to my big friend Jason, OK?" Pepe threw open the storm cellar doors to reveal a gigantic muscular shrimp in a hockey mask, which activated the chainsaw it was holding and raised it over the Chef. "OOOOOOO, it ern nightmaren oon Decembern twenten-fiften!" the Chef shrieked. It was his turn to run for his life over the snow hills, "Jason" in hot pursuit.

"So, what did you think of the story?" Statler asked Waldorf from the kitchen window as they asked this latest spectacle unfold.

"Very, very bizarre," Waldorf told him, "Now that it's finally over, we'll at least get a break from all this madness."

"You mind the audience will get a break because it's over," Statler corrected him, "We're still going to have to put up with these guys until the next story."

"If there is a next story," Waldorf noted, "With so little reviews, the author may need a rest, maybe do another Monk story or two."

"Oh, I've seen those ones," Statler said, "We've got to get over to that section so we can heckle them."

Neither they nor anyone else one noticed Yoda quietly climbing up to the roof, where the spaceship door hung open. A shadowy figure stood in the doorway, observing the scenes below. "Very amusing they all are," the Jedi master told the figure, "Are you sure go down and greet them you do not wish?"

"No," the figure, a tall bearded man, said with an obtuse smile, "It's better this way. At least I can see they are doing more than all right. What do you say we take this baby to Kashyyk? I always wanted to see what Life Day there was like."

"Then fasten your seatbelt you will; off we are," Yoda took one final look at the scene below them before pressing the button to close the ship's door. "So long, Kermit," the man called down as loud as he could just before it clanged shut. Down below, Kermit's head jerked up at the distant sound. "What?" Piggy followed her frog's gaze up at the ship as it lifted off and rocketed upward towards the stars.

"Oh nothing, Piggy," Kermit shrugged, "For a moment there I…ah, it doesn't matter. Either way, it's going to be a great Christmas Day."

THE END


End file.
